Squire of the Wash
by GradeASexual
Summary: Marco Diaz came back to Mewni. He thought he had been ordained a knight. He thought his friend would be glad to see him. Instead, he found himself escorted to the washroom, to squire under Sir Lavabo, the Knight of the Wash. Now Marco must prove his worth and face the real Mewni, without the benefits of being the princess' best pal. What trials await the new Squire?
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Author's Notes: This fic is a collaboration between me (GradeASexual) and my good friend all_possible_worlds. APW does not have a account, but they post their stuff on AO3. They write the excellent ongoing Star vs. fic 'I Summon the All-Seeing Eye' (Warning: Very NSFW content).**

 **Anyway we hope you enjoy this alternate take on Lint Catcher!**

* * *

"Man, Star. I'm sorry. I feel like I just crash landed into your life," the boy finally apologized, as they both made their way down the long spiral stairway which led to the sub-basement of Butterfly Castle.

It was a sorry excuse for an apology, to say the least. If he had simply called her beforehand, perhaps this whole debacle could have been avoided. He had ruined her date with Tom. It had taken about a week to schedule a time for it, given how busy Star was these days with her royal duties. She supposed Tom was busy as well, although she couldn't for the life of her recall an instance of him being the one to cancel plans on her. It made the princess feel all the more guilty that she was ditching her boyfriend to just basically tour Marco around.

In fact, Marco hadn't called Star at all since he got back to Earth. Not even a thank you message for sending his hoodie back. She remembered how hard that had been; like removing the soiled bandages over a stab wound, sanitary, yes, but also really painful. Yet, in time, the wound had healed, and she had learned to accept that her best friend and herself lived different lives, in different worlds. So why on Earth or Mewni was Marco here now?

"Well, we figured it out," she replied, as nonchalantly as she could manage. She felt so irritated at her friend right now. Was she being unfair? After all, she did it to him once. The crash landing thing.

She had barged into his life out of nowhere, making it weirder and wilder than it had any right being, putting him in mortal peril, more than once. But she had grown since then. She had matured. Marco himself had taught her early on why that had been bad, and she had learned that lesson well enough. So why was he now acting like he didn't know any better? Like he was just as clueless as she had been almost a year ago. She was nothing like that anymore. Nor did she wish to be.

When danger came to her for real, when darkness closed in, she had tried to protect Marco, to run away, so that Toffee would not go after him, the person she cared about the most. She had princessed up, told him how she felt at the time, and then left Earth to keep him safe. Yet he came back for her. He rushed to Mewni to help her, or at least to accompany her as she fought Toffee. To be by her side, to be her best friend.

Eventually, of course, he had to go back home, and she had decided that she needed to stay in her own. Mewni needed her. It needed everyone who was willing to help repair the damage Toffee had caused. Marco had business elsewhere, and thus he left, with many things left unsaid between them.

Instead, months later, he stammered, "Yeah... um, cool. Wow, heh. Check out all these stairs. Sure are a lot."

Yes, Marco, that's right, lots of stairs. Lots and lots and lots. And yet, somehow, not enough!

"So, what does Jackie think about all this?" she ventured the question that had been in her head for a while.

After all, she was the reason Marco had gone back home. Sure, his family was there, as were his friends, and school. But it's not like Star didn't know who he had been dying to see again every day he was in Mewni: his girlfriend, Jackie Lynn Thomas. She was, after all, the girl he had pinned after ever since he could remember. Lucky him! Star meant it, honestly. Good for Marco. Way to go dude!

So, then, where was Jackie now?

"Oh, well, she wasn't really into it... but... you know me. Ain't nobody telling me what to do," he chuckled. Star stared back at him in disbelief. He sighed, "That-that was a joke."

A really unfunny one.

Star could tell Marco was having trouble with this conversation, but she felt too confused herself to sympathize. He had just turned her whole day upside down, the least he could do was to talk to her like a normal person.

He continued, "Ugh. Actually, yeah, she... she broke up with me."

Oh, that explained it! Of course! _'Hey, Star, best friend, how you doing? Sorry I haven't called you in weeks, and haven't visited you once, even though I have dimensional scissors and could be here in a blink. I was too busy hanging out with my super-cool girlfriend. But hey, she dumped me now, and suddenly, I remembered you, my dear bestie. Let's hang!'_

Star Butterfly, Princess of Mewni. Star Butterfly, Vanquisher of the Immortal Monster. Star Butterfly, backup plan. Yeah, right, Marco. I got bad news for you: that's not going to happen!

"Well, I'm very sorry about that," she replied, as politely as she could manage. She wasn't actually sorry, but it wasn't like she was happy at the news either.

They neared the door now, and the mewman princess was surprised to discover how much she wished to resolve the matter, to get rid of her bestie. It wasn't like she didn't want Marco around. It was just that... she didn't want Marco around. Ugh, why was this so complicated?

"So... are you and Tom," he began asking.

"Yep!" she cut him off. It made her feel no better to say it. With all the princess-like grace and diplomacy she had always been famous for, she changed the subject, "Oh, look, here's that door we were walking to."

In all her life, before or since, never had Star been so glad to see Lavabo's hairy old face, peering out from inside a pile of laundry. She just hoped the ancient knight would have enough sense not to bring up anything about Marco's hoodie...

The ungrateful ass!

"Okay, Marco, here's a job…" "No, not that job! Another job…" "Princess me up something better!" Star mumbled to herself as she finally reached the castle's first floor. She made her way through the Royal Garden, ignoring the flowers she was angrily stepping on. He didn't appreciate what she did for him! Didn't appreciate her one bit!

He wanted to be a knight? 'Sure, let's make you a squire! It's literally step number one for what you said you wanted to do, here you go!' 'Oh, great! Thanks Star!' But no, of course that's not what she got. She got demands on top of demands, requests on top of requests, and not one bit of gratitude for her trouble.

How was she going to make him a squire inside the castle, when no other knight was looking for one? Come to think of it, why should she? Why was it that Marco assumed that she would do whatever he asked of her?

 _'Easy, Star, because you have a crush on me. You like me, and I know it. You said so in front of everyone. So, go ahead, jump for my entertainment!'_ The princess frowned at the notion, a crown of thorns sprouting around each of the hearts on her cheeks.

Distracted by such vexing thoughts, and carried forth by the momentum of her brisk stride, Star didn't even see the person she collided with. The princess fell backwards onto the grass. She mumbled as she quickly pulled herself off the ground and dusted off her dress, assuming, at first, that it was just a tree that got in her way.

Star then looked forward to see who she had ran into. A certain someone that no few would believe to be a creature of evil, a corrupting influence on her young and malleable mind. At one point, she might have agreed. But Star had come to see that same person in a very different light recently.

"Sorry about that, Star," Tom said, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't realize you were in your own little world when I came up to you."

"Tom! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she apologized profusely. It was bad enough that she had left during their date, and now this? And it was all, mostly, Marco's fault.

Her boyfriend was still sprawled bum-first on the grass from the impact. A year ago, Tom would have already burned a crater into the ground for Star's clumsiness. But he was instead smiling at the situation. It was so refreshing for Star to see the demon smiling at her mistakes for once.

"Sorry for what? Give me some credit. It didn't hurt that bad." Tom extended his hand for Star to grab.

Star did him one better, though, and used both her hands to pick him up by the shoulders and placed him on his feet.

Tom blinked a few times. "Wow, you've gotten a lot stronger recently," he said in an impressed tone.

Star gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "No, I could always pick you up. I just didn't want to hurt your sense of manliness back then."

Tom chuckled and rubbed one hand through the back of his head apologetically. His ego had indeed been somewhat fragile in the past, it was such a relief that they both could laugh about it now. "Fair enough. I guess that's one explanation for you being able to defeat an immortal monster."

The two were holding hands and began staring at each other, getting lost in their own thoughts. It was something they did quite often, actually, since becoming a couple again. Star then realized she sorta owed Tom another apology.

"I'm sorry if it felt like I ditched our date for Marco," Star said. "To be honest, I thought you had already left."

Tom gave Star that patented 'kicked-puppy' look. "Do you really think I'd leave without saying goodbye first?"

"Well, didn't you have to leave early today because of some prince stuff in the Underworld?"

"I cancelled those plans," Tom said. "Turns out Brian is not only an amazing counselor, but also an awesome secretary. I had him go and do that stuff for me. I'm not about to let some drama down there prevent me from seeing you."

Star was glad. Tom's schedule always seemed to be more flexible than hers, but at least that meant seeing more of him.

"So, is it true that Marco's living here from now on?" Tom asked.

Star rubbed her arm. "Um… yeah, looks like it."

Tom smiled. "For real? That's great! I haven't seen the guy in forever. You must be happy to see him again too."

Star didn't expect that reaction from Tom. She wished she could share his enthusiasm. In fact, she forced a smile and tried her best to do just that. "Yeah, it's... great. Super great. Amazing, even. Everything is so perfect right now."

"Star, please don't get mad," Tom raised both hands in a calming gesture, "but well, you know that wasn't exactly convincing, right?"

Tom was right. Star couldn't hide it. She turned away to think about how she was going to word this before saying it out loud.

Tom put his hand on Star's shoulder. "What's wrong? Did Marco do something?"

Star looked at the ground. "Marco's… really confusing me right now. He says he wants to become a knight of Mewni, so he's squiring for the Wash right now, but…"

"Buuuuuuuut," Tom said in anticipation.

"But… it all seems like a lame excuse. I found out his girlfriend on Earth broke up with him, so I feel like he just came here for attention."

Tom nodded. "Alright, let's give him some! I was actually hoping we could all hang out today. I just realized we've never done that as a group of three before."

Star shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a princess, Tom. Everyone expects so much from me right now. I don't have the time to help Marco. I barely have time to be with you. I just don't know if I can balance him along with everything else going on in my life."

Tom gave an immediate rebuttal. "Well, first of all, no one expects anything from you. I'm pretty sure that's just high expectations you've set for yourself."

Star couldn't really disagree with that. But still, her kingdom was in horrible shape after the whole Toffee crisis. Not to mention the bad reputation it now had with its neighboring kingdoms. She couldn't just ignore that.

"Secondly, we're still teenagers. We have to make the most of that fact until we take over our parents' jobs. You may never have time for Marco once you become queen."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Star said. "But it's not just that. Marco's been acting like a jerk, too. Like, he decided he was living here without even asking if I was okay with it. And then he kept demanding a better job than the one I got him."

Tom's expression didn't change, as if what Star had told wasn't surprising at all. He sighed. "Take it from someone who's been dumped before, bad break-ups change a man. They start getting defensive, feel like what happened to them wasn't their fault, and that makes them act entitled to everything."

Wow. That kind of described the old Tom to a T. And Marco was sort of acting that way too. But...

"That's just an excuse, though. A lame one. It's not like a bad break-up is mind controlling Marco into being a jerk. He's choosing to act that way." Not to mention the fact that Marco didn't seem the least bit bothered by the break-up itself.

Tom blinked, then awkwardly scratched his head. "Yeah, that… did seem like a lousy justification for how I used to be. Sorry."

Star looked at Tom for a moment. She remembered the Blood Moon Ball, and the fake career counselor drama. The demon prince had spent an entire year trying to get back together with her. It was flattering, in a way, but at the same time, it had been mostly unnerving, stressful, and more than a bit creepy. The problem back then wasn't that Tom liked her, but that he was so obsessed with winning her back that he had ignored her own feelings on the matter.

Then, the moment he had given up in his pursuit, he began seeing the same things about him that worried Star, and decided to do something about it. He had decided to change, not to get her back, but for himself. Honestly, that had made him like ten times more attractive, and Star had quickly remembered all of the things that had made her like Tom the first time around.

Yes, Tom had changed. He was improving himself. And he liked Star, a lot. Star herself was trying to improve as well by being a better princess. She dared say she was succeeding somewhat, in ways that one year ago she would have hardly dreamed possible.

Meanwhile, Marco hadn't changed at all since the beginning of the summer. If anything, he had regressed. Adopted the things about Star that she wanted to move away from: her lack of consideration, her recklessness, her shirking of responsibilities to run away from home on an inter-dimensional adventure. That last one was kind of specific.

Star grabbed Tom's hand. "I don't want you to feel bad, Tom. That person isn't you anymore. I'm just trying to say that Marco is acting super weird, and I'm dealing with plenty of weirdness already. I mean, my ancient grandmother who may-or-may-not be evil is here too. I have to draw the line somewhere."

"So… do you want him to stay?" Tom asked.

That was the real question. As much as Star treasured Marco's friendship, he, and Earth in general, represented a form of escapism that was ever so tempting. With Marco here, she'd have an excuse to go on random adventures in other dimensions again. It wouldn't be like her and Tom, who stayed within Mewni for their play-dates.

There was a reason Star gave away Ludo's dimensional scissors to Janna. She needed to stay put on Mewni. She wanted to be a better princess.

But with Marco around, it would be too easy to fall back into old patterns, to undo the progress she had made in these last few weeks. That is, if things could even go back to being like they used to. After all, things hadn't exactly been normal between the two of them since even before the whole Toffee situation.

When Tom realized Star didn't have an answer to his question, he continued. "Look, I'm not saying you should forgive Marco, and you have every right to kick him out if it comes to it, but it sounds like he's not going to change his behavior unless we say something to him. Heck, if it wasn't for him calling me out on how I used to act… well, I'm not sure I'd be with you right now. I feel like I owe it to him."

Star smiled. She had no idea Tom valued his friendship with Marco so much.

Tom quickly noticed Star's smile. "Also, don't ever, EVER tell Marco I said that just now. If you do, I'll…" Tom stopped to think for a second. "I'll... take a sip of your corn shake without asking!"

Star gasped dramatically. "So abusive! I thought you had changed, Tom!"

"Sorry, girlfriend," Tom said, crossing his arms, and putting up a mock bad-boy smirk. "I may be a reformed demon, but I'm still a demon."

Star gave him another peck on the cheek, and Tom instantly deflated.

"Okay, you convinced me. I'll talk to Marco later," Star said.

"Oh, um, okay," Tom said, still recovering from the kiss. "Where is he now?"

"He's squiring under Lavabo, but I don't think we should interrupt them."

"In that case, I suppose our date just got an extension," Tom said with a devilish smile. "If Marco's busy now, do you want to get some ice cream in the Underworld?"

"Sure!" Star said. "But… couldn't we just get ice cream up here? What's the difference?"

"Oh, ice cream in the Underworld is the best kind. Of course, you only have five seconds to eat as much as you can before it melts, but that's half the fun."

"Okay, I've got to try that!" Star said with excitement. The change in scenery would be nice.

"Let's go then. My carriage is parked outside."

"Which way is it?"

Suddenly, Tom stepped around her and, slowly, gallantly, put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry. I'll lead the way."

Without saying anything else, Tom began massaging Star's back and neck, and immediately unknotted all of the stress she had been accumulating for the past few hours, and some that she had been carrying for weeks. Tom liked her, really really liked her, and he was not shy about letting her know that. It felt good to be liked back.

Eventually the two stopped their flirting and left the Royal Garden, holding hands with smiles on their faces. Despite being provided with a healthy distraction, Star's mind wandered back to Marco.

She was still mad at him for how he acted earlier, but maybe the squirership would help him clean up his act. As quirky as Lavabo was, he did have a strange knack for helping people figure themselves out.

Either way, once she got back from the Underworld, she'd ask Marco how his first day as a squire went. She hoped he was having a good time.


	2. Chapter 2: Lint

'Don't' he kept reminding himself. Don't panic. Don't move. Don't yell. Don't cry. Marco couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk drawing attention to himself. Couldn't risk waking up the creature. It lay dormant now, all around him, clusters of pink sparkly lint, hiding a fearsome secret. But he had seen it, and he would not soon forget.

"Well, young squire, to clean the lint catcher, you need only to restart the fan. Such shall be your first quest, as has long been tradition among the Order of the Wash," had spoken Sir Lavabo, solemnly, five, maybe six, hours ago. At the time, Marco had thought the old soldier and Star were just making fun of him, sending him to do menial chores while the princess was otherwise busy playing board games with Tom. For all he knew, this 'Knight of the Wash', and his own corresponding position as a squire, were as fake as that damned meat blanket cape.

Now? Now he wished it had all been a joke. It was much better for your best friend to mock you, than it was for her to apparently send you to your death. Did Star really hate him that much?

The moment he had gotten close to the fan, a roaring cry had resounded all around him, and the discarded lint around the mechanism had coalesced into a gigantic creature, with tentacles for limbs and a circular maw full of sharp jagged fangs. It growled menacingly at him.

The human boy had retreated slowly then, under the many watchful eyes of the creature. Finally, as he was fully backed against a corner, the creature dissolved again into clumps of pink refuse.

Every time Marco made a move, or tried to speak, or so much as sneezed too loudly, the creature would begin to form again, and he would be forced right back into terrified stillness. Thus had been his existence for the past few hours, hours that had passed more slowly than most days did.

"Apologies, young squire, but I must now head to bed! I'll be back tomorrow, to check on your progress!" yelled the old knight from the outside. Before Marco had a chance to reply, to ask for help, the light coming from the door of the lint catcher went off. Now he was alone, in the dark, with the creature.

He was alone. Truly and completely alone. There were only two people who even knew he was here, and none of them seemed to care. Lavabo was just probably a few stitches short of a sweater vest if he considered this a good first task for an apprentice squire, and Star... Star was with Tom now. Not just Tom, she had a whole new life here on Mewni, and that life didn't seem to have a place for her old best friend.

He was going to die here. He would fall down from stress and exhaustion, then the creature would devour him in his sleep. Tomorrow's dawn, the old crazy man would come back to 'check on him', and he would find only Marco's discarded bones among the fuzz. He would go on to inform Star, who would shrug it off as an unfortunate accident. Maybe they would tell his parents, back on Earth. Or maybe, maybe no one back home would ever hear from him again. Not his parents, not his friends, not… Jackie. And if they did hear? Would they be sad? Or would they laugh at him? After all, he had spent the later half of summer bragging to them about how he was this great valiant knight, and now he was about to get devoured by discarded clothing fluff! He would laugh at himself, honestly, if he wasn't so close to pissing his pants in terror.

He snapped out of it. Marco was not crazy, unlike that coot of a laundry knight. He knew his family and friends would care, would be heartbroken if he didn't come back. He knew Star probably didn't know he was in danger, and that she would be mortified if Marco ever got hurt because of this. No matter what happened between the two of them, he could not imagine the princess ever wishing him harm of any kind.

But wasn't it at least somewhat irresponsible of her part to leave him on his own in what, for him, was a strange and dangerous dimension? I mean, back on Earth, he had needed to teach her how to cross the road, without getting run over by (or, let's face it, without having to magically pummel) a car.

Like, alright, he hadn't had the best possible timing, and he got that Star was busy and her life was not as before, he really really did. And, fine, he should have given her some sort of heads up! But, well, he had meant for it to be a surprise! Apparently, it had been, just not a pleasant one like he had hoped. Even so, was it really too much to ask for her to take half a day off to show him around and make sure he was doing ok with his exchange program? He had done it for her!

Ok, no, that was a lie. He had panicked, jumped down from a window into a garden full of cacti, and ran to hide near the nearest convenience store. But that was before they knew each other, before they were friends. No, scratch that, not just friends, _best friends_.

Were they even best friends anymore?

He felt discarded. Abandoned. Refuse. Lint. What in the world could he have done to deserve this? To be shoved aside like this? He might not have gotten everything right, but he had been there for Star, when she needed him, back when the whole Toffee thing went down. She hadn't told him she was in danger, but he had decided to check up on her anyways, to risk his own life to come to her aid…

Marco yawned as he finally woke up. The groggy teenager looked over and saw that the digital alarm clock read '11:26 A.M.'

Great… he overslept again. He could feel that sort of tiredness in his body that came from resting too much. It was as if his body, now spoiled by the extra repose, had come to expect innaction as its default state.

Marco got up from the bed and stretched a little, though there was a high possibility that once he got some breakfast in him, he'd just come back here to sleep some more. That's all he'd been doing since Summer started. Sleeping and waiting. Sleeping and waiting…

He looked around the room he'd been sulking in, the same room that so many exchange students had used for a year. Marco made a lot of great memories here, hanging out with awesome people like Gustav, Daniella, Pippo and Akil. Now all this room did was remind Marco of his best friend.

The more he thought about Star, the more worried he became.

There was a knock on the door.

"Marco? Are you awake? Jackie's here. She wanted to know how you were doing." It was his mom's voice. Marco heard a muffled whisper after that, and knew his girlfriend was right outside the door as well. She probably only had Angie ask first to make sure he was decent.

"The door's unlocked. She can come in," Marco said in a raspy voice. Ugh, he was thirsty.

As Marco reached for his glass of water, the door opened and Jackie walked inside the room. It looked like she had brought some DVDs with her. He hoped they weren't those 'Dealing with Teen Sadness' instructional videos. His parents had already bought him the full set.

"Hey Dude," Jackie said, as she leaned casually on the door frame.

"Hi Jackie," Marco said, still not fully awake yet.

Jackie made her way to the bed so she could sit besides Marco. "I take it you haven't heard back from Star."

Marco shook his head. "No. I can't get a hold of her either. I tried calling her Compact Mirror, but it's out of service."

Jackie looked down, choosing her next words carefully. "Well, I'm sure she's fine, and I don't think she'd want you to spend all of your time worried sick about her."

"I know, I know... What I've been doing hasn't exactly been healthy but..." Marco closed his eyes. "I can't help but be depressed about it! Like, this was going to be an epic Summer with the three of us all hanging out together. But then this drama happened, and Star looked so scared before she left and… and…"

Jackie grabbed Marco's hand between both her palms. "Look, Star's the toughest girl we know. I'm sure she can handle whatever she's going through. Let's have faith in her. I'm sure she will call, once she is done with whatever emergency came up."

"Yeah. I guess so…" Marco sighed. Star was tough, but the fact that she left without even a hint as to what happened left him guessing. Mewni was sort of in chaos after Song Day. Did her parents force Star to come back to look for Glossaryck? Had Ludo made another move? Had her people rebelled once they knew the truth?

"And even if Star is away for awhile, we can still make the most of this Summer. So… to help get your mind off things, I went ahead and bought these Mackie Hand DVDs for us to watch. We can binge them at my place."

Marco looked up. Wow, that was actually really thoughtful of her. Jackie had been trying to get him out the house for days. He had been so worried about Star, he didn't stop to realize how he must've been worrying Jackie. Any other girl would've been fed up with Marco by now.

"That... sounds really nice actually. I'd love to." It would be nice to take a break from the stress.

Jackie smiled as she reached over to hug Marco, but she turned back after only a few seconds.

"Um, wow. Marco, have you showered recently?" Jackie asked.

Marco turned red. "Um, I forgot to yesterday. I should probably take one before we marathon Mackie, huh?" In truth, Marco had been wearing the same black jeans and red hoodie since the End-of-the-School-Year party, but he dared not admit that to Jackie.

"Yeah, you go do that. I'll be chilling in your bedroom til you finish."

"Wait. In my bedroom? You could just wait in the living room. My parents don't bite, you know."

Jackie smiled devilishly. "What's wrong? Hiding something in there you don't want me to see?"

"N-no. Nothing like that. I just didn't think we were at that stage yet…"

"Relax. I'm not a snooper or anything. I just wanted to check out your Manga collection."

Marco's eyes widened. "You like Manga too?" He had no idea. He always pegged Jackie as too cool for comic books.

Jackie gave her boyfriend a kiss on the nose. "There's a lot we don't know about each other. That's what I'm trying to change before Summer ends."

Too flustered to respond, Marco left the room and rushed to his bedroom to grab a new change of clothes. He then walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

As he began taking off his clothes, Marco couldn't help but notice the sink. Even though Star's room had changed back to normal, all of her hygiene stuff was still there, scattered across the floor. It at least gave Marco hope that Star might come back one day to retrieve it all. I mean, who'd leave behind a magic floating hairdryer like that?

Marco stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water, letting his greasy hair get soaked. As the shower went on, he started to feel the energy come back to him. Showers always did help revitalize him.

Once he was fully satisfied, Marco stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He then put his new clothes on and walked over to his bedroom.

He saw Jackie was sitting on his bed, holding his dimensional scissors in her hand. Her fingers wrapped around both closed blue handles, right below the fiery eye sigil. On the blades, he saw his own name, briefly highlighted by reflecting light from the window.

Well, so much for her not being a snooper. Marco was pretty sure he put those inside his dresser.

"Marco, what are these?" she asked.

Marco gulped. He really didn't want to explain Hekapoo's scissor quest. It was a really long story, and one for another time. He decided to keep his explanation as simple as possible.

"They're… dimensional scissors. They're what allow Star to go from Mewni to Earth."

"And you just… had these this whole time?"

"Um… yeah." Marco thought that was pretty obvious. His name was on them and everything.

Jackie stood up. "Why haven't you used these to find Star?"

"I… I…" Marco was somewhat at a lost for words. He didn't expect that kind of reaction from Jackie. What happened to just having faith in Star?

Jackie continued to stare him down.

"I just think… that based on how Star acted that night, it's clear she doesn't want me involved with what she's going through."

"But aren't you worried about her? What if she's in danger? It's already been a week since she left..."

"Of course I'm worried!" Marco said. "But I'm not going there just to get in the way. I'd only be a liability."

"That's ridiculous. You fought Monsters with her all the time. You wouldn't be some helpless damsel."

"Jackie, please listen." Marco took a deep breath. "I know fighting Ludo's monsters might've seemed like a big deal to you, and it did to me at first too. I honestly felt super badass the first time I fought them with Star. But spend one day in Mewni and you'd realize how outclassed I am. Heck, I almost died during one of her family picnics!"

Jackie froze. There was a reason Marco didn't tell her how dangerous hanging out with Star was.

"Trust me, I know I wouldn't be any help to her. I'm just a kid. If I recklessly go to Mewni without knowing the full story, I'll just get myself in trouble, and next thing you know, Star is destroying her wand just to bail me out." That was still a painful memory to recall.

Marco clenched his fist. He hated admitting how weak he was, but it was true. It took him 16 years just to get to the same level as Hekapoo. That alone told him how he wasn't ready for this. If only he could take his adult body to Mewni!

Jackie put her hand on Marco's shoulder. "You're selling yourself short, dude. You're right, I've never been to Mewni, and I don't have a good point of reference, but can you honestly tell yourself that Star would've always been fine without you constantly backing her up?"

Marco thought back to a particular night. A night where Star almost got her face lasered off by an ugly elephant princess. It's true that if Marco wasn't there, her life could've been over. There were actually a lot of times he'd saved her…well, maybe not a lot, but some… What if this turned out to be one of those times, and he wasn't there?

"Also, are you sure it's just confidence issues that are preventing you from seeing Star?" Jackie asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Um… Star saying she has a crush on you?" she pressed, suddenly frowning a bit.

"W-what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, you've kind of been avoiding talking about it with me, so…"

Marco blinked. "You think I haven't been looking for Star because of that?"

"Not saying that's the reason. Just, you know, a potential one..."

Marco sat down on his desk chair. He couldn't believe his girlfriend would accuse him of something so petty.

Sure, Star's confession left Marco with… conflicted feelings, but he honestly hadn't thought about it at all. He was more concerned with her safety.

Jackie inched slightly closer to Marco while staying on his bed. "I think we should talk about it."

Marco didn't say anything. He wouldn't even know where to begin.

Jackie took Marco's silence as refusal. "Come on, Marco. I know this is awkward, but things aren't gonna magically go back to the way they were if we just ignore this. It'll just make things more awkward."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know? Something? Is that too much to ask? Right after Star said all that stuff to you and left, you didn't talk to me for the rest of the night."

"I was kind of freaking out for the rest of that night, Jackie." ...and panicking, and hyperventilating, and crying...

"Still, do you know how that made me feel?"

Marco rubbed the back of his head. "Jackie, I'm really sorry about that, but-"

"And no offense to Star, but did she really, really need to tell you that in front of everyone? Why does she always have to make a giant show out of everything?" asked Jackie, her expression hardening ever so slightly.

She had a point. That was a little too much. But if Song Day was anything to go by, making a giant show of little things was Butterfly tradition. Star didn't mean any harm by it. "I'm… also sorry if she embarrassed you."

"And now there are rumors going on about us, which I had the pleasure of hearing all week." Jackie sighed, as if emotionally exhausted. "I can't even make a few steps in public without being stopped by gossipers."

"I'm sorry about that too." Marco said, somewhat lamely.

Jackie didn't respond. It was clear Marco's apologies alone wouldn't be enough. "Do you know which rumor seems to be the favorite? That once Star left, you had this sudden epiphany of how much you love her. So you broke up with me on the spot and left Earth to track her down and tell her how you really feel."

Marco couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of that tale. His classmates really did have active imaginations. "What?! That is ridiculous! I haven't left Earth once since that night."

"It is ridiculous, but what was I supposed to tell them? 'Oh, Marco's still here. He just hasn't left his house at all. He's been spending all of his time depressed about Star being gone while sleeping in her old room. We're definitely still together though.'" Marco had to admit that really wasn't much better, now that he thought about it. "I know they're just dumb rumors, but… I'm really unsure about us right now."

Yeah, maybe he did go a little overboard with his grieving…

Now Marco really started to see where she was coming from. To him it was obvious he was still Jackie's boyfriend. It's what he wanted to be for years and just thinking about it now made him giddy, but he never bothered to reassure her once. He really did become too focused on Star.

Marco remembered how Star was planning to keep her crush on him a secret for the remainder of her time on Earth. She was the reason Marco was able to work up the courage to even approach Jackie in the first place. She wouldn't let her own feelings get in the way of that. That truly said everything about what a great friend she is.

Star wouldn't have felt compelled to say all that stuff the way she did, in front of everyone, in front of Jackie, unless she was sure she'd never be able to see them again. It wasn't just an awkward confession to Marco, but a tearful goodbye to nearly every friend she'd made that last year.

Something serious really did go down in Mewni. Marco was positive about that. Star didn't want him involved, likely to protect him, and he didn't want to repeat the same mistake he made at the Blood Moon Ball. He wasn't Star's hero, he was her friend. He'd respect her wish for him to stay on Earth, and only leave once she herself asked for his help (whatever good that'd be).

Afterall, it wasn't like she was alone. Marco had seen her father in action plenty of times, and while he never saw much of Star's mother, he knew she was capable of powerful magic even without a wand. Oh yeah! And the Magic High Commission! He got his ass handed to him by Hekapoo plenty of times to know how crazy powerful she was, and she was just one member.

Yeah, Star had no shortage of powerful allies. She would be fine. He needed to relax. He needed to focus on cheering up Jackie. And most importantly, he needed to set the record straight with her.

Marco got off his chair and sat besides Jackie.

"Jackie, I'm so sorry. I am worried about Star, because she's my best friend. But that doesn't mean I'm in love with her. You're my girlfriend, Jackie, and I feel like a jerk for making you question that fact for even a second. You were right, I just need to have faith that Star can handle her own problems. I'm not going to sulk in that room anymore."

Jackie looked shocked at Marco's apology. To her it must've been like talking to a completely different person than the one from a few seconds ago. "Really?"

"Of course! I'm ready to start acting like your boyfriend again. In fact, let's put an end to those stupid rumors today. We can go to the park right now and you can start teaching me how to skateboard. That's something you've always wanted, right? Then everyone from school can see we are very much a couple. I mean… if you'd like to… of course." Marco was fine with doing anything as long as it cheered her up.

Jackie beamed at Marco. "I'd… love to. I couldn't imagine a better way to spend my day, honestly."

Marco grabbed Jackie's hands. "Then let's go. We'll save the DVDs for later. We have to buy me a skateboard and some safety gear first." He attempted to leave the room with her but Jackie loosened her grip on Marco.

"We'll have to hold off on it. We can do all that wonderful stuff once you come back from Mewni." Huh? Marco was really confused now.

"Jackie, I'm not going to Mewni. Star doesn't want me there." She may not have told Marco that directly, but he knew it was true.

"But Star might be in danger. And I know deep down you're still worried. I'm worried for her too."

Everyone was worried about Star. Marco's parents had been trying to put on brave faces for the sake of their son, but they've definitely been concerned over their daughter from Mewni. Janna and Starfan13 probably weren't any different. Marco even heard from his mom that Oskar Greason came by to see if she came back yet.

"So, well, if not for her sake, and not for your's..." Jackie held Marco by the cheek. "Can you at least do it for me?"

Marco nodded.

"Okay. I'll go." He wasn't just doing it for Jackie. He desperately wanted to go as well, but at least with Jackie's request he wouldn't feel like he was being selfish.

"Great. I don't want you to come back until you confirm Star's okay."

"But… what it that takes longer than an afternoon? If I'm gone, won't you have those rumors to deal with?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, dude," Jackie dismissed the issue with a wave and a smile. "I can handle a bunch of silly rumors. I just wanted to know where we stand."

Marco was happy to have dispelled her fears.

"Now go make sure Star's okay. And when you do come back, I'd be thrilled to see you crush it on a board. Just, dude, make sure you take a shower beforehand," she laughed.

Marco chuckled. "Okay. It's a date."

The two teenagers shared a kiss together. If you asked him, Marco couldn't have said why, but for some reason it felt better than the kiss at the Love Sentence concert, and even better than his first kiss at the park. When it was over, Marco and Jackie smiled at each other.

Marco then rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. There was one important thing he didn't want to forget to take with him. It took him over a minute, but once he remembered where he hid them, he brought them back up to his bedroom.

"What is that?" Jackie asked. Looking at the box in Marco's hands.

"Captain Blanche's Sugar Seeds. They're Star's favorite cereal."

"Heh. How thoughtful." Jackie handed Marco his scissors.

Marco opened the scissors and cut a portal into the air. He gave his girlfriend one last confident nod before disappearing inside.

Marco realized, as he stood there in the dark barrel of the lint catcher, that he never did make good on his promise to Jackie. They never did go skating after that. He had been so wrapped up on his little summer adventure in Mewni, and his delusions of being a knight, that he had neglected his girlfriend. Again.

Months ago, before they even started dating, Marco had said that he wanted to get to know the real Jackie. But time after time, his actions told a different story. Did he really care about Jackie for Jackie, or only about what she represented in his mind? No wonder she had broken up with him!

What was worse was that Jackie had basically done it for his sake, not hers, despite how terrible of a boyfriend he'd been. She was always pushing him to go after the things he truly wanted, even if it meant letting him go. He had wanted to come to Mewni and, not once, but twice, Jackie had given him the excuse to do so.

Well, here he was! Back on Mewni. Wasn't it great? Alone. Cold. Tired. Scared. About to be devoured by a gigantic fuzz monster.

He couldn't blame Jackie, or his friends, for it. They had only helped him do what he wanted to do. It was not their fault that he had lied to them, lied to himself. He had gotten so wrapped up on the emotions that followed Toffee's defeat, that he didn't even realize how small his own involvement with that whole affair had been.

He had been bragging to them about being this great knight, just because River had hinted at the possibility that he might one day be one. Even if the king had been serious in his offer and not just making a fool of him, what did Marco really have to brag about? He had busted Star out of jail briefly, only to get captured right after. Like, right right after. Like, before-they-got-out-of-the-door after! If he hadn't come to Mewni for her, things would have likely turned out exactly the same in the end, with or without Marco.

Now it turned out, he was not even cut to be a squire, let alone a knight. Best case scenario, he would hold out here until the morning, then cry to Lavabo to let him out. He would go back to Earth and apologize to Jackie, to his friends, to his family. He should apologize to Star too, now that he thought about it. Remembering that conversation with Jackie also reminded him of another thing he didn't do.

He never talked to Star about her confession! No wonder she was pissed at him! She had told him she had a crush on him, he had lived with her in Mewni for a week after Toffee was vanquished, and in all that time, he never gave her an answer! I mean, he supposed it was an answer by omission. Still, that was hardly fair.

It's just, well, it was awkward to bring it up, because... because he didn't feel the same way. Did he? And because he was with Jackie at the time. And now she was with Tom, and it must be awkward for her to be around Marco and... oh, crap!

Small wonder Star didn't want him in the castle! Duh! How could he have been so blind? He had wanted them to go back to how things were before the summer, before Song Day, before her confession. And maybe they would have been, if he had had the guts to at least talk to her about what he wanted.

If he had asked to remain friends, just friends, instead of walking in and out of her life at random, without ever acknowledging what she had told him about her own feelings. Why is that he hadn't been able to at least say that?

He couldn't blame Star either. He couldn't blame anyone else for where he was right now. It was he who had come to Mewni, he who had asked to become a squire, he who had walked every step of the way that led here... to his very probable death... and he was going to walk every step of the way out as well.

Marco closed his eyes in determination. His hand went inside the inner pocket of his red hoodie, and took out a pair of blue handled scissors. He was done waiting in fear. He was done feeling sorry for himself.

First of all, he had a way out, so he definitely wasn't dying. That was just the self-pity talking.

He focused his thoughts on the warm morning California sun, and cut his first portal home. He wasn't going to go through it. Not except as a last resort. But the light, flowing across dimensions, illuminated the scene around him.

He saw the inside of the wooden barrel, crisscrossed by strange mechanisms that seemed, at once rather archaic, and also far beyond what he would have expected to find in a medieval kingdom. He saw the clumps of pink glittery lint all around him, and he saw them begin to flow towards the front of the lint catcher's fan. Slowly, awoken by the light, the creature begun to take shape again.

This time, Marco was ready. To say he wasn't scared would be a lie, he was still terrified. But he was even more determined than he was afraid. He was ready.

He took out his blue cape - well, King River's meat blanket, really - and laid it hanging over his left arm, hiding his right hand behind the fabric. He clicked his heels together, stood tall, glanced at the beast defiantly, and shouted, "Ole!"

Like bull towards bullfighter, the lint creature charged towards Marco, propelling itself from the floor and walls of the lint catcher with its many tentacles. The human boy waited, and waited, as the monstrosity drew closer and closer to him. Then, in the last minute, he moved his arm, removing the cape from the way, and with his hidden hand, the hand holding the dimensional scissors, he cut open a portal.

He jumped up and backwards, making the opening as large as he could. It was not enough. Not enough to get the huge creature, despite its pliable form, to go through the portal. But he did manage to get its face, and most of its mouth, stuck through the swirling dimensional gateway. Somewhere over the black empty void, an unimaginable distance away from here, the missing half of the monster roared.

Marco didn't miss his chance, he ran as fast as he could, avoiding the blindly swatting tentacles that remained this side of the portal. Soon he reached his goal: the fan.

He looked for a mechanism to restart it, and, finding none, resorted to pulling on the ventilator's blades. When his grasp wasn't enough to move it, he jumped on it, lifting himself up the ground and gripping the downwards-heading blade with both hands, using the weight of his whole body.

It didn't budge. Crap! It was stuck. Try as he might, Marco was not strong enough, nor heavy enough, to restart the fan on his own. Behind him, he heard trashing and struggling, and finally a snapping sound. A shadow began to rise, covering up the light from his first portal.

He turned to look back, and what he saw confirmed his fears. The creature had pulled its maw from the portal and now looked back at Marco with what he imagined to be vengeful anger. Instead of jumping at him again, the creature extended a single tentacle in his direction. It moved in a straight line, like an uncoiling spring.

"Ah-ya!" Marco shouted, as he tried to block the incoming punch with his own arm. His form was flawless, but he could not match the force of the incoming strike.

He barely managed to avoid getting snared by the tentacle as its punch threw him head first into the floor. Despite the fluffy appearance of its constituting material, this creature was stronger, way stronger, than him.

Wait a minute! It was stronger than him. Strong enough for sure to…

Marco smiled.

He took the dimensional scissors into his hand again, and waited. The creature seemed to hesitate.

"Come on, come on," Marco muttered under his breath.

Finally, with a piercing cry, the lint monster threw a second extending tentacle punch his way. Marco turned around and cut, and the creature's appendage fell straight through the portal.

The other end opened up, not back on Earth, not into the void, but inside that same room: an inch above one of the fan's blades. Marco jumped right then, out of the way. He grasped one of the tubes on the wall the very second the creature's punch unstuck the mechanism, and the fan roared back to life.

Briefly, the creature roared in return, before it was sucked out of the trap, ripped apart piece by piece, by the rotating blower.

"Yes! Take that!" Marco yelled victorious. "Who's a genius? Marco Diaz! Marco Diaz!" he chanted to himself. There might have been some unbecoming hip motions involved.

So much for not making it as a squire! At this rate, he would be a true knight in no time. 'Just you watch, King River! Just you watch!' he thought, as he made sure to fold the blue meat blanket right into his hoodie's long pocket, and put the scissors aside.

Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Star about this! She would be so jealous that she missed out on such an adventure. He ran out of the lint catcher, skipping and jumping. He ran down the wooden stairs of the barrel contraption, and up the infinitely larger stone stairs that led back to Mewni castle.

Just wait until he told his bestie about the way he had used the scissors! The way he had stood up to a monster five times his size and beaten it with flair and ingenuity. It had been so freaking cool! And he'd done it all on his own this time. Hell, he could tell folks back in Echo Creek how he had used his cape like a matador! Dad would be so proud of him! Bullfighting had always been somewhat of a guilty pleasure to watch for his old man, despite being otherwise a gentle soul.

His joy was somewhat dashed when he found himself blocked by a huge closed wooden gate. By that, and by the business end of two halberds pointed towards his ribcage.

"Who is there?" asked one of the two guards flanking the door. "No one is to enter the castle at this hour!"

"Hey, no, no, sorry, didn't mean to startle you guys. It's just me, Marco," he apologized, putting both hands in the air. "I am friends with Star. I just wanted to tell her something…"

Roaring laughter from the other guard was his response.

"Friends with the princess? Really? Looking like that?!" underneath its metal helmet, the second guard shook his head at Marco. "Please, kid. You are covered in dust, and dressed in rags. If you want to sneak into the castle to steal some corn or something, you should make a better lie than that… now, move it along. You are not in trouble, yet, but don't press your luck, ok boy?"

They didn't believe him? Marco stood there for a moment, shocked. But, but, he was friends with Star. He had been seen with her in the castle, multiple times, before. He had been there for the battle against Toffee! Hell, he had been there for Song Day!

Wait, Song Day, that was it!

"Oh, come on, guys! Don't you remember Star's princess song?"

The first guard responded coldly then, "By order of Moon the Undaunted, any mention about the rumors and calumnies regarding the Royal Book of Spells is to be considered…"

"What?! No, not that," Marco waved his hands around dismissing that line of questioning. The last thing he wanted was to get Star's family in any more trouble. "You know: 'Who is the boy in the earthly attire'? 'Star Butterfly yada yada best friend'? 'His name is Marco Diaz'?!"

"Oh," the second guard seemed to recall then. "Yeah, I remember, something about some Earth prince that the princess was in love with? But, come on, kid. Are you expecting us to believe that guy was you? That's even worse than your first story. Reilly, I am beginning to believe the kid is delusional…" he 'whispered' to his colleague.

"I am not delusional. I am Marco Diaz!" he shouted, becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Look, kid, even if you were. Everyone knows the princess is dating the Prince Lucitor these days," the second guard added. "Is not like we would just let in her bitter ex-boyfriend anyways, so your tale doesn't even help you…"

"I… I see… nevermind then, sorry for wasting your time," spoke Marco defeated. He turned away. He was not her ex, though, he was her best friend... Wasn't he?

As he began descending down the long stone staircase that led back to the laundry room, he remembered he still had the scissors. He took them out, grasped the blue handle firmly, saw his name reflected in the gleaming metal. Who cared what these guards thought? He didn't need their permission. He could cut open a portal right to Star's room whenever he wanted!

But then again, wasn't that what had gotten him in this trouble in the first place? Crashing into Star's life, unannounced... unwanted?

Marco sighed. He did open a portal, not to Star's room, but rather back to the laundry room, to the dark empty barrel of the lint catcher. There was no monster there anymore, and no fuzz to rest on, only the hard bare wooden floor. He extended his hoodie between himself and the planks, and River's meat blanket over his own body, as he laid to rest. There, to the monotonous rumbling of the lint catcher's fan, the Squire of the Wash fell asleep.

Tomorrow would be another, hopefully better, day.


	3. Chapter 3: Rise and Wash

**Notes: Hey everyone! After a brief hiatus this story is back! Sorry for the wait but both writers of this have individual Star vs. fics that take priority over this one. This chapter may be short, but Chapter 4 will be out in less than a week and is about twice as long, so don't worry!**

* * *

"Marco Diaz! It is time to wake up!"

"Huh?"

Marco looked up and saw Sir Lavabo towering over him. The bulky elder wasn't exactly the nicest image to wake up to, but it was admittedly better than the usual laser puppy staring you in the eyes. If only because, while definitely cuter, waking up to Barko Diaz's expectant gawking meant risking permanent blindness.

Not wanting to upset his new mentor, Marco quickly got up and put his hoodie back on. The meat blanket was all that remained of his on the floor. Marco questioned whether or not the thing was worth putting back on. The mere image of it brought back embarrassing memories from yesterday.

There was also the fact that it was the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with Jackie. That too...

Finally deciding to just carry the blanket in his front pocket, Marco turned around to notice that Lavabo was carrying a most decidedly unknightly tool with him.

"Um… what's with the shovel?" Marco asked curiously.

"Ah, this." Lavabo looked at his shovel and sighed. "Well, you see, Marco Diaz, I must apologize. You had spent so long in the Lint Catcher, paralyzed with fear, that I was not sure of your chances of survival. So I brought this shovel with me in case it turned out you had died. To give you a proper burial."

"What!?" Marco was taken aback by Lavabo's bluntness. "If you didn't think I was going to make it, then why'd you leave me there by myself?" He literally left Marco there to die!

Lavabo clenched his fist dramatically. "I'm sorry, I had no other choice. My shift always ends at 6:00 p.m. sharp, and overtime is strictly forbidden!"

"Are you serious? That's your reason?" Marco slowly and deliberately stepped further away from Lavabo and closer to the lint catcher's exit. There's no way he'd survive nine months with this lunatic.

"Of course, I would have helped you if you had called out prior, but doing so would terminate your squireship. All squires must pass this trial on their own before starting. It has been the way of the Wash for generations." he explained, solemnly.

"Yeah, whatever," Marco said coldly as he made his way to the wooden stairs. This wasn't worth it. Marco would go to Star and see if there was anyone else he could squire under. He'd beg, if he had to.

"Marco Diaz, please wait!" Lavabo shouted.

Marco stopped and turned around, though he only did that so he didn't come off as rude. He'd hear the old man out and then politely run for his life. "What is it?"

"You always had the option of calling out for help. Deep down you know this to be true. Why didn't you, then?" the old knight asked.

Marco thought it was obvious. Him just speaking was enough to alert the lint creature. Lavabo wouldn't have made it in time.

Then again, he had the scissors, so he did have a way out. So why was it that he hadn't thought of it sooner? Too busy feeling sorry for himself?

Lavabo continued. "It's because your pride wouldn't allow it! Even in the face of death, you stood there for hours until you mustered up the courage to do what needed to be done! All on your own!"

Heh, Marco wasn't gonna argue with that. He was pretty badass last night.

"You are the first squire to successfully clean the Lint Catcher in decades," Lavabo said.

Woah, really? Marco knew what he did was impressive, but not quite on that level.

"I was confused at first, when Princess Star brought in such a timid boy to take on such a daunting task. But after seeing what you have accomplished, I will never doubt her wisdom again. I can now see why she thinks so highly of you."

Wait, did Star know about the Lint Catcher? Did she really think Marco could handle it?

If so, he really did misinterpret her intentions when she brought him down here. Maybe she thought any other place in the castle wouldn't be exciting enough, or enough of a challenge for him.

After all, he did tell Star, back when they first met, that he wanted some danger in his life. And ever since that, she used to drag him into all sort of dangerous adventures. Perhaps she thought that's what he wanted, even if she didn't have the time to go with him.

"I understand why you are upset with me. By even contemplating the possibility that you might fail, I did you a grave disservice. I should have had more faith in you. If a knight does not believe in his squire, then who will?"

Then, without warning, Lavabo held his shovel out with both hands, and snapped it in half with his knee. That was probably meant to be some sort of grand gesture that would move Marco, but to him, it just seemed like a waste of a perfectly good shovel.

Marco awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Um, I don't hate you or anything, but what you put me through last night was really intense. Maybe you should tone down your newbie trials. You know, ease them into it a little better." It would at least lower the number of child corpses.

Lavabo frowned. "I do not have time for such coddling. The Wash is not a playground. It is a battlefield where only the strongest survive." He held a fist up in the air to punctuate his speech. "That trial is meant to show the squire that harsh truth first hand."

Well, it certainly worked.

"You show great potential, Marco Diaz. I never had a squire in the forty years I've been here, not for more than a night. I grow older with each day, and cannot keep up with this place. I need you. If you were to leave now, it would be one of Mewni's greatest tragedies."

Geez, now Marco was starting to feel bad for the guy. There was such sincerity in Lavabo's voice that Marco knew he wasn't exaggerating.

The squire sighed. Alright, what the hell. How much worse could it get?

"Well, if there's literally no one else who can squire for you, then I guess I don't have a choice," Marco said, shrugging.

Lavabo beamed at the boy and clapped. "Ha ha, excellent! You are indeed a brave soul!"

Marco attempted to hide the fact that he was blushing. "Heh, um, thanks."

"We will begin today's work in a half-hour. Use that time however you like," Lavabo said, as he made his way outside the lint catcher.

"Hold on a sec," Marco said. "I need to find out where I'll be staying during the night. Do each Knight and Squire get their own room or…"

"Ah. I forgot you are from another dimension. The way it works here is that people live in these things called 'houses' that are located within 'towns.'"

"Um, yeah. We have those on Earth too." Marco rolled his eyes. "But I'm supposed to be living with the Butterfly family, so shouldn't I get a room in the castle?" It stated such on Marco's Foreign Exchange Student papers. Granted those documents were technically forged, but still! He couldn't just sleep in the lint catcher every night! Right?... Right?!

Lavabo shrugged. "You'll have to discuss it with the queen, then. If it doesn't work out, though, you are free to stay at my home."

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." Marco just had to apologize to Star for how he acted yesterday and then she would princess him his own room.

Marco leaped off the lint catcher and ran towards the sub-basement stairs, but was stopped short.

"Uh, what is this?" Marco asked, confused by the sight.

What stood in front of the squire was a mountain of clothing and garments. The number of articles of clothing must have been in the thousands. No, scratch that, tens of thousands. Marco couldn't even see the wall behind, but was positive that was where a large door and two pickup windows were located. He was completely blocked off from exiting The Wash.

"Today's workload is particularly daunting," Lavabo said, examining the pile thoughtfully. "You couldn't have come at a better time!"

"W-where did all this come from?" Marco recalled seeing a few big piles on his way out to find Star last night, but it wasn't anything like this.

"This is the bulk of laundry from the villagers, who live outside the castle. It gets delivered here early in the morning. In addition to that, we have piles that belong to knights, squires, castle staff, and high nobility respectively."

Marco looked around the large room. Lavabo was right. Four smaller but still frighteningly large piles surrounded them. One of them was nothing but blood-and-dirt-stained armor, which probably meant it was the knights'.

"We need to wash and organize all this before 6:00," Lavabo said.

"Oh boy," Marco said under his breath. He was in for a long day.

"If you need to leave before we begin, you can just dig your way out. It will all get cleaned in the end." Lababo said.

Marco kept his distance from the exit. "You sure these piles won't just float in the air and form into some type of bloodthirsty monster?"

"Sure? Ah, young squire, the only certainty is that nothing is certain!" Lavabo chuckled. "No need to worry. We will encounter other threats such as those in the lint catcher, but infrequently. These clothes should all be fine. Just stay away from the knight pile. Small creatures and curses from the forest tend to cling to their armor."

Marco felt like he should be taking notes. Not knowing this stuff could be the death of him. "So, if this stuff had been here since this morning, how did you manage to get inside?"

"I digged a hole, as always. That shovel wasn't just meant for you," Lavabo said. "Now if you excuse me, young squire, I have a hole in the ceiling I must fix before we begin."

Once Lavabo was out of sight, Marco took out his scissors.

He wanted to at least apologize to Star before beginning the day. He would just open a portal right outside Star's room and then politely knock on the door like a decent person.

Before Marco created a portal, something caught his attention. Something green that was on top of the smallest very-big pile of clothing.

"My bag!"

Marco climbed to the top of the pile to retrieve his bag. Yesterday he was so busy being manhandled by knights that he forgot to take his luggage with him. But how did it end up here?

The squire looked above him and saw the end of a large laundry chute. Below him were several elegant gowns, blue coats, and childish dresses.

Ah. Star must have pushed his bag down the laundry chute to deliver it to him.

Marco opened the bag to make sure everything was still inside, and found a folded piece of paper. He read what was on it.

 _Hey Marco! Um… sorry for not checking up on you last night! I had to make a diplomatic visit to the Underworld and didn't get home til late. You know how it is with being a princess, since you're technically one as well! (LOL)_

 _Anyway, I hope you're having fun down there. Lavabo is actually a really cool guy, isn't he? Maybe we can meet up later and talk about… stuff!_

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

 _So... a lot has happened here recently. Did you know Glossaryck came back to life and now he's some weird man-baby? I'm not sure if he's better or worse this way. And don't even get me started on the Eclipsa drama, but I'll have to explain that can of worms to you in person._

 _Best Wishes - Star Butterfly, Princess and Future Queen of the Butterfly Kingdom_  
 _(p.s. Tom said he can't wait to hang out with you again. But don't tell him I said that!)_

Marco smiled. It was good to know Star didn't harbor a grudge against him. It was clear from her writing that she was in a better mood than yesterday. In addition to the cute touches like the fact that she literally wrote 'um,' there were also several doodles scattered across the page. One depicted Marco wearing armor while holding a mop and bucket. There were a couple of unreadable sentences in the middle that had been all blotted out with ink, but maybe that had just been her correcting a mistake or something?

He was still planning to apologize to Star, of course, but at least it wouldn't be as awkward as he thought.

Marco put the paper aside and looked further in the bag, hoping to find some kind of room key Star left for him, but there was no such item inside.

He sighed. Oh well, it probably didn't cross her mind. He just needed to see her before the day was over.

Determined, Marco zipped up the bag and went searching for Lavabo. The sooner he finished what needed to be done, the sooner he could go meet with Star!


	4. Chapter 4: Cleaning Up

"Squire Diaz, reporting for duty!" Marco saluted confidently as soon as he spotted the old man, clicking his heels and briefly pressing the side of his palm to his forehead. Lavabo looked puzzled at this. Clearly, the gesture didn't translate well to Mewni's own martial etiquette. "So, uh, well, what should I be helping with?"

"Ah, yes, very well, Marco Diaz," the old man mussed. "I believe the larger pile might be the best one to start with, to get it out of the way before the more tricky challenges. It is a simple matter, really. Left wing for leather and wools. Right for most vegetable fabrics. Cotton on the southern vats. Separate by colors and dye type. Underwear on gentle, outerwear generally on the standard. I am happy to say, it should all be fairly intuitive..."

"Um, ok, so I need to do the big pile? All of it?" Marco confirmed. It seemed a bit much for his first day. After all, it was at least ten times as large as the other four combined.

"No, no. You misunderstand me, brave squire," the knight clarified. "After you are done with the townsfolk pile, I recommend you move on to the garments of the nobility, which are few but rather more delicate. Then, you may move onto those of the staff. The squire clothing comes next after. Finally, most of the knight armor needs to be inspected, hand scrubbed, and then oiled and polished. I should be at hand to help you by the time you get to those, since it would be unreasonable to expect you to know what to look for there the first few times around."

"Wait a minute! You 'should be at hand'? What are you doing while I wash everything else?!" the boy complained. It seemed an awful lot to Marco like he was being handed most of the work. This many clothes would probably already be a daunting load for a hundred experienced workers on Earth, let alone an inexperienced apprentice, all by himself.

"Ah, yes, I suppose it would be ideal for me to directly supervise things on your first day. Alas, I cannot do so," Lavabo lamented. "Lady Syrma's gown arrived today as well. I am afraid cleaning that will keep myself occupied until mid-afternoon."

"Oh, come on!" Marco protested. "You are saying I need to wash like a million clothes, all by myself, while you clean a single dress?!"

"Haha, of course not. Do not be ridiculous! There are only eighty three thousand six hundred and forty two individual pieces of clothing in here today, counting those we both are wearing. Besides, I'll just be inside the special treatment room. Only a shout away from any questions you might have. So, well, good luck, Marco Diaz, and may you do the Wash proud!"

As he spoke, Lavabo grabbed a small pine box from the ground near the nobility pile, and turned around towards a battered door, before strutting in and rapidly slamming the door behind him.

It looked like any other of the laundry room's many enclosed sub-divisions: tiny wooden rooms within the huge labyrinthine chamber that was the Butterfly Castle's sub-basement beyond the 'Knights of the Wash' pick-up window. However, this particular enclosure seemed worse for wear than the rest. The door was missing two out of three hinges, and the windows around it were barred with planks of wood. Broken glass lay on the floor under every single one of them. Atop the door, a crooked sign read "SPECIAL TREATMENT ITEMS - STAFF AND HEROES ONLY".

The following hours went by in a whirlwind for Marco, as he moved clothes by the cartload from one side of the enormous laundry room to the other. He would, for example, begin by diving into the pile, feeling out blindly for the telltale itching of wool against his arms or face, grab a handful articles of that material, then dive out to put them inside a wheelbarrow. All while ignoring the grunts and shouts coming from the special treatment room. He would repeat the process until the cart was full of one particular type of fabric, then rush out with it towards the corresponding wing of the complex.

Each wing was filled with rows upon rows of huge wooden buckets, inside which some Archimedean contraption stirred pine paddles to produce a effect similar to that Marco would associate with a modern washing machine. Specific buckets were meant for different types of clothes and different colors, running at different speeds and temperatures, adding different soapy mixes into the clear water.

The rows were long enough that it would take him upwards of five minutes to run across to their farthest end, and he would need to rush up and down the wing's length with his cart, dropping each individual item in the corresponding 'washing machine'. Cotton was the worst, since, for some unknowable reason, the southern vats were a full twenty minutes away from the rest of the complex. They also consisted of enormous tin containers that could only be accessed through a narrow fenceless bridge passing high above them. It didn't help that the whole place was a bizarre cross between a dry cleaning business and Indiana Jones' god-damned Temple of Doom.

All the while, Lavabo seemed to possess some form of supernatural intuition bordering on prescience. As soon as Marco was about to make a mistake, he would shout correcting instructions:

"Remember, Marco Diaz, Mohair Wool is distinct of Lamb's and Sheep's and must be put in buckets 30 through 45, which run at its preferred temperature."

"For Edward the Hunter's prize boots, I must warn you: warnicorn leather is an exception among the beast hides, and must go in tin 53 only. Do make sure the maiden tears were added this morning, if you please."

"Salamander crimson dye is explosive when combined in the same tub with the simpler crustacean based red, so please make sure to distinguish them properly."

Marco did as commanded, and he tried his best to keep the ever growing list of instructions and special cases straight in his head. But by noon that day, he was tired, confused, and his hands looked like prunes from submerging them into the various washing tubs and cleaning solutions. Worst of all, the larger pile hadn't seemed to diminish in the slightest, not to mention the other four, or the drying process.

"This is absurd!" he shouted at the closed door. "There is no way even the two of us could get through all these clothes in a day. Let alone I by myself. Besides, what on Earth does any of this have to do with being a squire, or becoming a knight?!"

As if on cue, one of the boarded windows of the special treatment room broke down that very moment. Splintered wooden pieces and sawdust came flying out from it, and behind those, Lavabo's body too flew through the air. He turned around in mid air, landing on his feet. He was wearing a full suit of plate armor and brandishing a coal-heated clothes iron. The strange implement seemed made out entirely of gleaming silver.

"Nothing on Earth, perhaps, Marco Diaz. But on Mewni, the Order of the Wash is among the oldest and most honorable of our chivalric traditions. While our tasks are not always easy, and not always visible to those we serve, I guarantee you, there is great reward in rising to their challenges!"

Having made his speech, Lavabo once more jumped into that strange room through the window. Marco heard a hissing sound and the knight shouting, and then, for a moment, silence.

Sighing, the human boy turned back towards the piles of clothing once more. Perhaps, what he needed was some positive reinforcement. Some sense of completion. Maybe if he finished the smaller pile first, rather than the largest one, he would at least felt he had gotten something done. Carefully, he walked towards the nobles' pile, and began separating silk, velvet and jewelry.

Before he could even get his first cartload out of that pile - a batch of blue silk, which seemed among the most abundant combinations - Marco saw something that stopped him on his tracks. It was one of the plainest things in the noble clothes heap: a green summer dress with a rainbow pattern in front and a bear iron-on patch. Besides it was another green dress, this one with a cartoon octopus in the front. Below that one, a blue dress, and an assortment of smaller articles. He recognized Star's clothes immediately.

None of those fit the category on which he had decided to focus. As a matter of fact, there was only one item in that grouping that was made of silk, it was not blue, and Marco was far too much of a gentleman to pay it much mind. Instead, he took a quick glance to confirm Lavabo's door was still closed, and gently picked up the first dress. As his hands brushed the garment, he noticed two thin vertical cuts on its upper back.

At first, he was worried the dress had somehow become damaged in the chute, but he quickly realized what those were: holes to accommodate Star's wings. How come he had never noticed that before?

There were also a couple food stains on the dress. Marco chuckled. For a princess, Star's table manners left a lot to be desired, and she could be downright messy at times. It was something she almost took pride on. After having experienced St. Olga's Reform School for Wayward Princesses and their take on 'manners', Marco could not say he didn't sympathize with his friend's reaction.

He held one of the stains closer, and examined it with a careful eye. Despite having spent the entire morning looking at dirty clothes, Marco wasn't an expert quite yet. But it looked like an ice-cream stain to him. Strange, he didn't recall seeing this stain when he saw her yesterday, wearing that same dress.

And despite Star's letter saying she'd went on a diplomatic visit to the Underworld, there were no formal dresses of hers in the royal pile. Just her plain outdoor dresses. What was up with that?

Oh, right! Marco felt a bit slow. Of course. Star had said she and Tom were an item, hadn't she? And he did just interrupt their date earlier that same day. So, well, it stood to reason that 'a diplomatic visit to the underworld' was simply code for 'a date with Tom'. That explained the p.s. note too.

A lot really had changed since he was last here. It was hard to imagine those two getting back together, let alone Star giving the demon the time of day. While Tom had made several attempts to hang out with Star last year, most likely in an attempt to patch things up, she would always answer him with cold refusal. After which, Tom would always angrily stomp to Marco's room and ask if he was busy.

That was usually how the two teenage boys wound up spending the day together. Marco was Tom's backup plan. Not that Marco minded. Things started rocky at first between them, what with the kidnappings and the threats of arson, but after a while, the two started to form a genuine friendship. It helped that Tom eventually made legitimate attempts at improving himself. Clearly, those attempts paid off. Somehow, in the weeks that Marco was away from Mewni, Tom had managed to win Star back.

Which, you know... was great!

No, really. Marco didn't mind at all. It wasn't like Marco was in a position to judge anyway. He wasn't gonna act like an overprotective brother anymore. Star was perfectly capable of making her own decisions, and apparently she decided to spend the day with Tom instead of him!

Tom was her boyfriend after all, so it was understandable he took priority. He was happy for Star and Tom. Good for them! What a happy couple!

Marco looked around the room and saw the five daunting piles of laundry again. The same piles that looked identical to how they were this morning.

He really didn't want to be here.

Marco took the scissors out, and envisioned the hallway in front of Star's room. He would do things right this time around. He would knock, see if she was in, ask where she was otherwise and, when he found her, he would ask her if she had time to hang out for a bit. If she was busy, then no harm done. It's not like he was trying to be the third wheel if she and Tom were on their own, or to distract her from her royal duties. But what was the harm in asking? Perhaps he could join her for lunch, then portal back into the laundry room to do as much work as humanly possible before six.

The door of the special treatment room fell down open just as Marco was getting ready to make a cut with the dimensional scissors. Perhaps the old knight could truly see him from behind walls. Marco turned around to apologize and ask to leave anyways, only to realize the door had literally crashed to the ground, its last good hinge severed. Lavabo rolled away from the entrance in quite a hurry.

"Marco Diaz, my apologies for the distraction from your own task," he exclaimed. As he said so, he stood up again, clothes iron in hand. It was only then that Marco realized that there was some strange golden inscription wrapping around the iron's base. Its letters shone with a light all of their own, faint but yet far too strong to be mistaken for the simple reflective gleam of the metal.

Soon after the Knight of the Wash, came a bright midnight blue gown, floating in mid air. It moved mesmerizingly through the empty space, as if worn by an invisible dancer. A shadowy purple fog seemed to follow behind it, like ever-forming storm clouds. The item itself was sleeveless, but out of the far side of the straps, where the arms of a person would have been, two whips of dancing lightning sprang out instead. One of them jumped, quick like a cobra, towards where Lavabo had just been. Fortunately, the knight managed to not be there anymore, just in the nick of time.

"My apologies to you as well, milady," Lavabo bowed towards the dress, before jumping out of the way to avoid a second bolt of lightning. "I had hoped to do this more respectfully, as well as privately, but I am afraid you must vacate that gown, and join the rest of Lady Syrma on a better world than ours."

The knight ran towards the floating piece of clothing in a complex zig-zag pattern, avoiding its strikes. He lifted a large triangular shield on his left hand, while he readied the enchanted clothes iron behind him on his right. As he blocked one final lightning hit with the shield, he twisted his entire upper body for the counter-strike.

"Magic must rest when the body at last goes into the final sleep. Of Lady Syrma remains: the memory of her deeds..."

He swiped at the dress with the iron then, and where the instrument touched it, the clothing became slack.

"... the thoughts of those who loved her..."

Another swipe, over one of the straps, and one of the lightning-arms went out.

"... and the legacy of her bravery, wisdom, and kindness."

One more hit, and the other arm went out.

"We have no need of phantasms to remember her by, nor must we be reminded to honor her. But this, her favorite gown, we do need, to be worn one last time by her remains, at her wake, where the living may say their goodbyes."

He knelt down in front of the falling dress, dropped the iron to the floor, and caught the fabric reverently, folding it neatly. There was a brief moment of complete silence.

"What... what was that?!" Marco finally exclaimed. The entire fight had been over in less than a minute once both knight and dress were out of the small room, and the human boy had been frozen in awe for all of it.

"Once again, apologies for the interruption," Lavabo started, in a more casual tone than the one he had used just before. "I will instruct you further in this sort of procedure, of course, should you continue long enough as my squire. But, the short of the matter is that when a person of great innate magical ability dies, part of their magic will sometimes find purchase in the objects that are of significance to them. Clothes being, by far, the most common home for masterless magic."

"Like a ghost?" Marco asked.

"Yes, sort of. But also, not at all like that," the knight observed. "In any case, when this happens, it is one of the sworn duties of the Order of the Wash to put these manifestations to rest in an honorable and respectful manner. I was forced to be less gentle than is ideal with this particular Poltergown, I am afraid. I perhaps gave a bad example, but Lady Syrma's magic was exceptionally strong in life, and I am becoming less and less nimble in my old age. All the more reason to be glad that I finally found a squire to train in the ways of the Wash!"

Well, when you put it that way, Marco felt like a jerk for even thinking about ditching the old man just now, even if only for an unauthorized lunch break.

Also, Marco glanced at Star's green dresses, suddenly apprehensive. Whomever this Lady Syrma was, Star's magic was a force of destruction even when the princess was around to reign it in. If something like this ever happened after Star... no, he could not think about that, and not just because of the ghosts left behind.

"So, ok," he added, "let's say I mostly understood that. What about the iron then? Is that magical or something?"

"Or something indeed!" Lavabo beamed. "Very perceptive. This is a sacred clothes iron, lifted centuries ago by one of my predecessors from a certain stone ironing board, to which it had been fused to the point of being half stuck inside it. It shouldn't be confused with a certain other enchanted clothes iron, which was gifted to the order by an aquatic sprite of some power. This particular implement can calm restless powers, break many hexes, smooth the most stubborn wrinkles and, this is the most impressive part, when used properly, it will never damage even the most delicate of fabrics!"

The whole thing sounded familiar enough that Marco thought at first that the knight was pulling his leg. But then he realized there was no way he could be familiar with any Earth legends.

"Now, if that's all," the old man concluded. "There are a few final rites I must perform on this gown, and I can see you are drastically behind schedule. So I believe we must both get back to work immediately."

Marco was honestly going to do just that, without protest. Unfortunately, right then, there was this loud forceful knock on the pick up window. Followed, with barely any pause, by a second round of impatient knocking.

"Ah, just a moment Sir!" called back Lavabo.

He placed Lady Syrma's gown delicately atop a wooden chair, then did a literal back flip, switching the direction he was facing towards in mid air, and raced to open the pickup window. A strong and forceful hand pushed the rest of the door open, almost slamming it on the old knight. Somehow, however, Lavabo seemed to magically find himself out of the way just in the nick of time.

The man behind the door was tall, muscular in a decidedly upper-body heavy way, and had a hairdo which had either been painstakingly preened, or perhaps just licked upwards by a giraffe. He sported a fiercely annoyed expression with the kind of expertise that suggested a more or less permanent mood to back it up. He wore gray shorts, a long sleeveless olive green vest, a gem encrusted belt, and two brown leather boots. He extended a hand forward, palm up.

"Afternoon, laundryman," he greeted Sir Lavabo, perfunctory. "I require my armor back at once and in ready condition!"

Lavabo blinked. "Ah, but I believe the only garments of yours we have were delivered this morning, in rather bloody condition, at that. The Wash's promise is a 24 hours one, 48 on weekends. That is an ancient and sacred oath, and a Knight of the Wash would sooner die than break it! However... I am afraid the twenty-four hours are not yet up."

"Disgraceful!" bellowed the other knight. "You old fool! How do you expect, I, Sir Stabby the Valiant, to perform my knightly duties without my armor in shining condition?!"

"I would not, of course. Has there been an emergency?" asked the old knight. "I was under the impression you had no quests impending until mid next week. Not to mention, a second set of armor as a backup? I tended to that one merely three days ago."

"Yes, of course it is an emergency!" cried Sir Stabby. "The Mewni Mead Madness festival is tonight. Not that you'd care, but It is enough that I must contend with the likes of Sir Dashing of Muzzleton - a pox upon that gorgeous, gorgeous man! - now you are telling me I must impress the town maidens with my battered old armor?! Unacceptable!"

Geez, this guy was annoying. Couldn't he see this giant mess of clothes he and Lavabo had to go through? They didn't have time for his whining. "Sorry Sir, but there's nothing we can do about it. You'll just have to wait like everyone else." Marco said

Sir Stabby glared at Marco. "So, the old coot finally got himself a squire. The princess' former boyfriend if I'm remembering correctly."

"Oh for the love of… we never dated!" Marco said, perhaps a little too defensively.

The knight seemed rather amused by Marco's outburst. "Easy there, boy. Your motivations for being here do not concern me, but I'm no fool, so I'll offer some advice as your superior. If you wish to impress the young lady through great deeds, you won't achieve them down here."

"What do you mean?"

"The Wash is isolated from the rest of the Kingdom. People never stop to think about the person that cleans their clothing, they just throw it all in the Wash Box and expect it back the next day. There is no gratitude to be earned or given. Now, the ones who are out there protecting the kingdom from vile monsters, those are the Knights of Mewni. Those are the brave men and women who are immortalized in the history books. If you want to impress any ladies, let alone the princess, you'd have to be squiring for a real knight, not a laundryman."

"Um, excuse me?" Marco said. "Sir Lavabo is a real knight!" He had just seen him fight some crazy lightning-slinging ghost, not to mention that damn thing inside the lint catcher. Who was this guy to say that job didn't count as protecting the kingdom?

Sir Stabby lifted an eyebrow at him. "You think I would be so stupid as to consider that clothes folder an equal? Please. There's a reason why every previous squire before you had quit after the first day. Clearly tolerance for tedium is your strong suit."

What the hell was his problem? "The reason every squire before me quit is because they couldn't handle the deadly monstrosities that 'clothes folder' fights on a daily basis." While Marco was relieved no one really died in the lint catcher, it annoyed him that those who failed the test likely lied to cover their asses. "In fact, I'd like to see you do it!"

The knight didn't say anything at first, likely believing Marco was just joking, but after realizing his words were genuine, he laughed heartily. "Ha, deadly you say? The only thing I see in here that's likely to strangle you is that drab turtleneck over there. I suggest spending a day in the Forest of Certain Death and revising your loose definition of the word 'monstrosity.'"

At this point, Marco was used to being treated poorly by the knights of Mewni, but this guy needed to be pushed off his high horse. "If I remember correctly, didn't the Knights of Mewni lose the kingdom to a bunch of wild rats a while back? I guess you were off that day." Marco said with a cocky smile.

Apparently Marco had crossed a line he shouldn't have crossed, because Sir Stabby unsheathed his sword while gritting his teeth in anger. Marco felt a little stupid for not predicting what would happen if he antagonized a man named Sir Stabby.

"Hmph, perhaps the squire needs to be taught proper etiquette. Lavabo has been too lax with you, so I'll rise to the challenge!".

Oh no.

Despite Sir Stabby and Marco being separated by the pickup window, it hardly mattered. Stabby thrust his blade towards Marco.

Marco readied himself to parry the sword with a swift kick. However, something immediately obscured his view and he heard the clanging of metal.

Lavabo, being too fast for Marco to notice, had gone in between them and blocked Stabby's assault. Lavabo had a knight's chest plate in his hands and had stuck it out in front of him as a shield.

"Gentlemen! Now is hardly the time for sword training!" Lavabo turned towards his squire. "And Marco Diaz, next time you sword train, I'd highly recommend bringing an actual sword with you. May help your chances."

"Um… yes sir," Marco said, still overwhelmed by his knight's sheer badassness.

"A pity, I would have liked to see the boy beg for his life, but I suppose that can wait another day," Stabby said disappointed. He put his sword away. "I assume my armor is ready."

Lavabo smiled. "Indeed it is! I did a quick polishing while you two were getting acquainted. Not my finest work, but considering the circumstances, it should be more than appropriate." He handed the chest plate he was holding to Sir Stabby, who briefly examined it.

Marco was once again in utter awe at Lavabo's dedication to his work. He had been talking to Sir Stabby for only a minute, but in that short time, Lavabo had located Stabby's armor among the knight's pile, and gave said armor a polishing so good that you'd be forgiven for assuming it had never been worn. It was in pristine condition. Not a single particle of blood could be found.

Marco wondered about something though. "There isn't even a dent on it where the sword hit."

"A knight's weapon and armor set are magically bound to each other, as well as their owner, before they are considered truly theirs. Because of this strange bond each piece shares, they are unable to reshape or harm one another. This prevents the knight's weapon from being used against them." Lavabo said.

Huh. Guess that explained why Lavabo blocked with Stabby's loose chest plate while already in full armor himself.

After a few more seconds, Stabby seemed satisfied with the results. "Very well. I'll accept this as is. You have my thanks, laundryman."

Lavabo already had the rest of the armor in a tightly knotted burlap sack. He gave it to Stabby over the Pick Up window counter.

Marco was all ready to get back to work, but Stabby was not done with him yet. "One last thing, boy."

Marco turned around. "The name's Marco."

Stabby ignored his correction. "I will admit, my defeat and imprisonment at the hands of those vermin will haunt me till the day I die. Despite that, I can sleep soundly at night knowing I was anything but a coward. Unlike, Sir Lavabo here."

"What?" Marco said in confusion.

Lavabo simply shrugged and walked away.

"Look, boy, before you go idolizing this laundryman of yours. Ask yourself where was he during Ludo's attack." Sir Stabby smiled victoriously. "Forgot to consider that, did you?"

Marco glanced back at Lavabo, who was slowly picking up Lady Syrma's gown from the wooden chair, carrying it back towards the special treatment room.

"I'll tell you were he was, boy. While all the rest of us were up there fighting the filthy rodents, outnumbered fifty to one, your 'honorable Knight of the Wash' was where he's always been: hiding down here among his piles of dirty laundry!"

The older knight gave no sign of having had heard, and disappeared into the now doorless room.

Stabby grinned at Marco, then shrugged, turned, and walked away from the pick up window. "That's the man you are working for, boy. A laundryman, nothing less… and nothing more," he muttered by way of a goodbye.

Marco rushed inside the dingy old room, literally stepping on the fallen placard reading "SPECIAL TREATMENT ITEMS - STAFF AND HEROES ONLY".

Inside, he found a spartan chamber, with no furniture besides the broken remains of two wooden chairs, a metal shelf full of strange laundry implements, and a large stone altar, roughly the size of an ironing board. It was undecorated, except for three small silver bowls on as many of its corners. Lavabo was busy pouring some lavender colored liquid from a glass vial into a fourth identical silver receptacle and placing it on the final corner.

"Yes, Marco Diaz?" spoke the old night, without turning back.

"Sorry but, the stuff that guy just said, about you staying down here during the attack… that was a lie, right? Wasn't it?" Marco asked. People had died back then, homes burned, King River got captured, Ludo Levitatoed a ton of people… Star had died. Well, yeah, she got better, but that wasn't the point.

He wasn't sure he could respect a knight who simply let all that happen, no matter how badass. Marco might not know much about being a knight, but their duty was to defend the kingdom, that much he knew. Of course, it wouldn't have surprised him to hear that everything coming out of Sir Stabby's mouth had been a complete fabrication.

"That was the truth, Marco Diaz," Lavabo spoke calmly. "I remained here from the moment we heard about the rats falling upon the town, to the very hour Princess Star saved us all."

Marco's heart sank. "Why?"

Lavabo sighed. "We have much work to do today, my young squire. But this is an important lesson as well. Perhaps, we should break for lunch."

The knight walked out of the special treatment room, motioned Marco to a table, and retrieved a small picnic basket from underneath the seats. The boy followed him without much enthusiasm. He still wasn't sure what to think about the eccentric old man, particularly in light of these news. How could he talk so much about honor and duty and then hide when the kingdom he presumably swore to help was being attacked? Surely he had duties beyond cleaning clothes!

"Ah, behold, Marco Diaz!" he proclaimed, as he retrieved half a dozen cooked ears of corn. "A treat fit for a champion, and… let me find it… ah, yes! One of the rewards of our profession: actual butter!" he exclaimed proudly, as he took up a knife and rapidly prepared two ears of corn to be consumed.

Marco eyed the buttered corn, feeling rather underwhelmed, but took his piece nonetheless. He realized only now that he was starving from all the morning's work. Still, he was mostly waiting for an explanation.

"Look, Marco Diaz," Labavo begun. "Besides those specific to the Wash, as a Knight of Mewni, your duty will be first to the people, then to the crown, then to the land, in that order. When I barricaded myself inside these walls, I let the land fall into enemy hands, and I failed my duty to the crown," he admitted.

"Had I been alone, such act would have been unthinkable," he noted, solemnly. "But I was not. When I heard the news about what happened outside the castle walls, about a huge monster headed this way, I gathered down here as many of the children from the castle as I could, as a precautionary measure. The Wash might not look it, but is easier to defend than the entire castle, and an unlikely place to draw much interest from invaders. When news reached us of the fall of King River before the army of rats, just as he managed to fend off the original threat, I had a hard decision to make."

"Either protect the kids already here, or try to fend off an invasion that was already inside the castle…" concluded the squire.

Lavabo smiled bitterly. "Precisely. I do not think my involvement at that point could have swayed the battle. Had I done what Sir Stabby would have preferred, I might have just as easily failed, and would have left the children defenseless. I would have failed my first duty, you see?"

"... the duty to the people," Marco nodded. His admiration for the old knight restored. "But, then, why not say something when that jerk insulted your honor? When he called you a coward!?"

"Sir Stabby is well aware of the facts. But his view differs from mine, he sees a value in the act of fighting itself that I do not always share," the man conceded, way too generously in Marco's opinion, given what he had just seen of the other knight. "I would not have changed his opinion, no matter what I said, nor do I see much gain in trying."

He shrugged and dug into his cob of corn. Then, with a glint in his eye, he turned to face Marco, once again dead serious.

"As for the other matter. Despite popular belief, one's honor is not something that can ever truly be impugned by others." He paused. "Marco Diaz, fame and glory may well both be about how others see you, and thus others can take them away from you. But honor? Honor is all about how you, in your innermost most honest thoughts, see yourself."

Marco nodded in understanding and hurried up to eat the rest of the corn. He had work to do.

That afternoon, at five sharp, Lavabo walked out of the doorless room. What he saw, as he looked at the courtyard of the Wash, made the aging knight smile elatedly. He felt his heart race like that of a young man of fifty.

Over two hundred separate piles of neatly folded clean laundry, sorted each from largest to smallest item, were arranged in front of him. Every article was perfectly washed and, from the looks of it, properly softened and dried. It was everything he could have asked for, if not more.

"Almost every article in the kingdom, sorted by type, fabric, color, and size," proclaimed Marco Diaz, taking rightful pride in his work. "I took a look at the knights' pile and pre-sorted it, but I also remembered your instruction to wait for you. Hopefully we can still get those done, we have less than an hour before closing time!"

"Ah, yes, yes, plenty of time, with the two of us working together…" trailed off the knight. Then, glancing at some of the piles, he noted something surprising. Not, strictly speaking, wrong, but yet, perhaps unnecessary. "But, Marco Diaz, if I may ask, why are there five different piles of red cowled cotton jackets?"

"What?" the boy exclaimed surprised. He walked around a pile of green boots and glanced at where Lavabo was pointing at. "Oh, those? Well, they are all different colors, after all: crimson red, cherry red, rose red, scarlet, and others," he counted with his fingers. "I didn't want the colors to bleed, so…"

Lavabo gave the five heaps of jackets a much closer look, and confirmed his squire's words. He dried away a single tear from his cheek. "Well done, Marco, very well done..."


	5. Chapter 5: Living Situation

Six o' clock, the Wash's perennial closing time - supposedly observed since the reign of Skywynne Butterfly, Queen of Hours - found Marco and Lavabo calmly eating a second serving of buttered corn.

Their job had been finished with several minutes to spare. This was despite a particularly stubborn dust ghoul, a bloodthirsty vine curse, and the general and disturbing lack of care the Knights of Mewni seemed to display towards their own equipment.

Marco had learned, in the last hour, about twenty three different alchemical oils used to clean steel, cold iron, conjured orichalcum plate, magical fiberglass, pixie battlesilver, and the dark unnameable metal of the black forges of the Underworld. He had made a mental note to ask Tom later if he could, you know, name it. It was really annoying to talk about the stuff otherwise.

He had also learned the fine details of polishing, inspecting, and de-cursing both armor and weapons.

He had learned, first hand, that a dust ghoul was a flesh eating undead creature that, once slain, turned to dust. Unfortunately, this did not mean that it disappeared without trace, but rather that its remains usually ended up coating the clothes and armor of the brave knight who managed to slay them. Given enough time, a dark environment, and proper living-dead style determination on their part, the ghoul simply ended up putting itself together, in a diminished form, from that residual concentration of material.

Honestly, the hard part wasn't breaking up the creature again with a well timed karate chop, or even washing down the dust into the bright magical cleaning solution intended to take care of the problem in a more permanent way. The worst part, instead, was the nauseating sensation of breathing in pulverized zombie. Also, having to drink enchanted vinegar diluted in holy water just to guard against the unlikely but cumulative risk of ever getting enough ghoul into your lungs that the thing might try to form from within your chest.

Ugh, the thought alone gave Marco the creeps.

The bloodthirsty vine curse had been harder to deal with, but Lavabo had made quick work of it. Apparently, the night fairies living in the depths of the Forest of Certain Death were rather opposed to knights trampling on or cutting their favorite flowers. Their idea of payback was to curse their clothes so that the thread itself turned into vicious thorn-covered creeper vines at dusk. The climbing plants then gorged themselves on mewman blood and eventually blossomed into a full rose garden of their own, beautiful and deadly.

Geez, and Marco had thought pixies were bad enough!

Fortunately, it turns out that bloodthirsty vines are much less dangerous if you are not wearing the armor at the time, creep rather slowly, and are, despite their mortal thorns, no match for the Knight of the Wash armed with a pair of rune-etched cold iron garden trimmers.

"Is cleaning the knights' pile always like this?" Marco asked at some point.

"Not so, Marco Diaz," Lavabo assured him. "Some days we might encounter actual dangers brought in with the day's load."

Marco stared at the old knight, who simply smiled softly. He wasn't sure if that had been his idea of a joke, or if he was dead serious. He supposed he would find out. For now, he was pretty happy to have survived the first day down here. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

As he reached out for yet another ear of corn, Marco was beginning to dread that might be the only food known to Mewni. He remembered having had many other dishes back when he had stayed with Star in the castle, after the battle with Toffee: various meats and vegetables and fish, all besides the marked emphasis on corn. The table of the Butterfly family had always presented him a literal banquet. Then again, Marco realized, they were royalty. Chances were, whatever Star and her parents ate was different from what most of their subjects ate, and the way Star lived was different to the way the non-royals lived.

Speaking of which, he remembered, he hadn't figured out yet where he himself was going to live.

"Hey, Lavabo, I mean... Sir Lavabo," Marco stammered. "If there is nothing else left to do tonight, I think I should go find Star now, or Queen Moon, and ask them where I should be staying."

He was exhausted, despite it only being 6:00 PM. The day had felt like it had lasted forever, and his entire body was sore from all the work, but he still had to figure this out. He didn't want to spend yet another night on the lint catcher's hard floor, and resorting to sleeping on a pile of strangers' clothes didn't sound much better.

"Very well, Marco Diaz. You have performed admirably today, and I am happy to grant you leave," the knight spoke solemnly. "By the way, should you not manage to procure any other options, you are always welcome to my own home. It is a bit far from the castle, and I will not say it hasn't seen better times, but it is an honest dwelling, for honest men. It has belonged to the Knight of the Wash for over twelve generations," he explained, in a tone of reverent satisfaction.

"Ah, eh, thank you..." Marco replied, honestly grateful at the knight's gesture. For a moment he considered taking the offer, but a house far from the castle was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to stay in the castle, because... well... because he wanted to stay close to Star. After all, that was the reason he had come to Mewni, right? To hang out with Star.

Well, that and to be a great and famous knight, with the blue 'knight cape' King River had supposedly given him. But still, a big part of it was about hanging with his best friend again. "But I think I should try asking Star first, sorry. No offense."

"Your words do not offend me, Marco Diaz," Lavabo replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "You have your reasons, and I cannot imagine them to be anything other than honorable ones. Nevertheless, should you change your mind, please know that I have a few personal matters to attend to in the castle, and will be back here at eight to pick up my belongings and set on my journey home. The offer to join me remains open. Otherwise, I expect to see you down here tomorrow, six AM sharp, to continue your training."

Marco nodded. "Of course, Sir!"

After cleaning his hands with a cloth napkin, Marco pushed himself up from the wooden table in the middle of the Wash, grabbed his bag, and dug into his pants pockets for his pair of dimensional scissors. His name gleamed back at him from the metal. He briefly realized he still didn't know what that metal actually was, even after today's lessons. Well, that was a question for another time.

Thinking about the hallway in front of Star's room, he cut a portal in mid air, and disappeared through it.

Lavabo said nothing as Marco departed. The boy never saw the calm but admiring look with which the old knight regarded the scissors.

* * *

Marco cautiously peeked his head out of the portal and made sure the coast was clear. He imagined that after yesterday's incident, security on the higher levels of the castle would be stricter than usual.

Once he had confirmed that the hallway was empty, the squire left the portal entirely and allowed it to dissipate into thin air.

Star's bedroom door stood in front of him. This felt so strange. The place used to be as welcoming to him as his own room, but now he couldn't bring himself to knock on the door. Marco stared at it, his guts slowly shuffling with anxiety.

Washing all those clothes took a lot out of Marco, but after the fourth hour or so, he got the hang of it and the labor became quite methodical. While his body went through the motions of gathering and washing and drying, his brain had passed the time by thinking of how he was going to apologize to Star. He must have played out over a hundred different scenarios in his head, but almost all of them ended with her taking it the wrong way and slamming the door in his face.

If he brought up the lint monster, it might seem like he was trying to make Star feel guilty for not being there for him yesterday. I mean, yeah, it would have been nice if she fought alongside him, but Marco needed to pass the trial on his own, and with the dimensional scissors, it was debatable if Star left him in any real danger to begin with.

If Marco mentioned his eventual victory over the beast, he could come off as a boaster again. That wasn't good either. Even if he was the first squire to defeat the lint monster in years (he still couldn't believe it!), he didn't want to repeat the same mistakes he made with his friends on Earth. He'd take after Lavabo from now on: be a badass, but pretend it wasn't a big deal.

He would also be careful not to mention needing a room right away. Then it'd just seem like he was only apologizing to her for his own benefit. He'd have to sneak in the topic mid-conversation somehow.

Maybe it'd be better if he started it with something about her? Like asking how her day was.

Yeah, that could work…

Marco shook his head. Wait, this was stupid. Why was Marco overthinking something as simple as talking to his best friend? He just needed to man up and admit he made a mistake. She'd understand. Star made dumb mistakes all the time when she was on Earth, and Marco never held a grudge against her. Just say hello to Star, and let the rest of the words flow naturally.

...But just to be safe, Marco gave himself a more confident posture. He licked the tip of his fingers to slick his hair back. A quick whiff of his under-arms confirmed that he really should've taken a shower before doing this. Ever since Summer started, he'd been consistently skipping his hygiene routine for some reason.

Wanting to be more presentable towards the princess, Marco hunched over and opened his bag to find his deodorant and a breath mint, but the search was interrupted by his phone ringing. He jolted.

Ugh, Marco really needed to change his ring tone. It was 2015 already. Space Unicorn just wasn't hip anymore. Not that he thought it was hip back in 2014. He had it ironically. But now it wasn't even ironically hip. It wasn't like he enjoyed the song or anything...

Marco glanced down at the caller ID. It read 'HOME.'

*Click*

"Hello?"

"Hi honey! How've you been?"

"Oh, uh, hey Mom. Sorry I didn't call you guys last night. Things were kinda hectic when I arrived so I didn't have the time."

"It's okay Marco. We know what's it's like to be independent for the first time. I'm surprised you even picked up at all."

Ouch. "Geez, give me some credit."

Marco heard his mom chuckling. "Don't worry about it. We'll be fine as long as you're having a good time over there. So, how are you enjoying _France_? Is being a knight everything you hoped for and more?"

Marco hesitated a little. "Um... yup, sure is! It's been nothing but jousting and crusades all day, every day. I'm practically up to my neck in chivalry. There was this dragon that had found its way into the Washroom and I took it out no problem."

There was a small uncertain pause before his mother responded. "Good, good. Anyway, your father has been dying to talk to you, so I'll hand the phone over to-"

"Marco! Are you okay? Has anyone hurt you?" his dad said, panting.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine." Wow, Marco's father seemed really worried. It was sort of justified paranoia, considering Mewni was far from the safest place in the multiverse, but still…

"Is there any way I can talk to Queen Moon? I'd like to go over several precautions with her in case you lose a limb or something. Is she available?"

Marco looked around. "Right now's not a good time, Dad. Queen Moon's in the middle of signing a peace treaty with some minotaurs. _Really_ delicate stuff. I don't want to interrupt them and risk causing a war, you know?"

"Well, what about King River? Is he nearby."

His dad was way too persistent. "Nope. He's on vacation. Left the kingdom last night to go golfing with his barbarian buddies."

"King River _golfs_?"

"It's a matriarchal society, Dad. What else would their king be doing?"

"I thought he didn't know how to play. Didn't we have to pay for the damages he caused to that putt putt place because he didn't understand the rules? I know mini-golf is different but-"

Marco banged on Star's door several times, making sure his dad could hear the noise on the other end. "Oh no! That... wooden horse-shaped peace offering apparently had a Minotaur army inside of it. Who would have guessed? They're now wreaking havoc around the castle. I'll call you later, Dad. Duty calls."

"Marco, wait-"

*Click*

Marco sighed in relief. That was a close one.

He hated the idea of lying to his parents, but letting them talk to Moon or River would do more harm than good. If they found out Marco invited himself to Mewni, and that those Foreign Exchange Student papers were phony, well, Marco didn't want to risk being forced to return home.

Once he got promoted to a respected knight, he'd let them in on it, and they'd all share a good laugh. It wasn't that big of a deal anyway. His parents probably appreciated the alone time, and Mewni got an awesome squire. A win-win all around!

Marco put the phone away and his attention returned to Star's bedroom door. He had knocked on it pretty hard. If Star was in there, she definitely would've heard it. She must've been somewhere else in the castle.

Just to check, he tried knocking again. Nothing. He tried opening the door. Locked. He put an ear to the wood. Quietness. Ok, that last one settled it, Star was definitely not in there. Even a sleeping Star made more noise snoring than the Awesome Opossums' entire marching band made, well, marching.

The boy's hands absentmindedly played with a particular pair of scissors inside his right pocket, but he stopped himself.

No, he had set out to do this the right way. Besides, it was unlikely that she was actually in there. He was better off just looking for her elsewhere.

Marco was about to go searching for Star, but then the door's knob began jiggling.

"Star?"

The shaking of the door continued, becoming more violent with each second. Marco looked at the knob and realized _something_ was trying to fit through the keyhole. A pair of tiny blue arms appeared and pressed themselves against the metal. Whatever the arms were trying to pull out, they eventually succeeded.

"Globgor!"

"Glossaryck!" Marco exclaimed, surprised by the magic man's sudden appearance. Wait, didn't he disappear after Ludo, or was it Toffee… Ludofee destroyed the book of spells?

"Globgor!" repeated the small blue figure as it pushed against the frame of the doorknob, freeing all but his left foot.

"Look, man, I don't know what weird game you're playing this time around, but I really don't have the time. I just need to find Star," pleaded Marco. "I promise I'll get you some pudding after I find her, alright?"

Glossaryck finally managed to extract all of himself from the keyhole. He fell to the floor on all fours and regarded the boy with an inquisitive look. "Glob...?" He tilted his head, scratched his left ear with his left foot, and then... "... Gor!"

The minuscule old man took off running through the hallway at full speed. Only then, Marco remembered Star's letter: 'Did you know Glossaryck came back to life?', followed by 'and now he's some weird man-baby'. Right. Great, just great!

Marco ran after him. Something told him that was the right thing to do. The guy shouldn't be on his own outside of Star's room. "Wait, Glossaryck! Slow down! Damn it!"

The blasted book elf, or whatever, was fast, really fast. Marco chased him around a corner, and into an even longer hallway. At the other end was what seemed to be the entrance to a spiral staircase. If Glossaryck made it to the stairs, Marco was certain he would soon lose sight of him.

It didn't help that the human boy was exhausted from his first day at the wash. But even if he weren't, he wasn't sure he could catch up to Glossaryck. The blasted blue man could probably run laps around the boy without even trying. It reminded him of someone else that was near-impossible to catch.

Wait, that was it!

Marco took out the scissors from his right pocket, concentrated on the top of the stairwell, and cut a hole right in front of his own moving body. As he made it through the portal, he found himself at the end of the hallway facing the exact opposite direction from before. Glossaryck was running directly towards him, with far too much momentum to stop. All Marco had to do now was grab him in time. "Now, I call that move The Hek..."

The diamond encrusted imp just turned to the left and jumped out of a window.

"... kapoo," Marco finished, striking his own diamond-free forehead with an open palm.

He ran to the window. It overlooked a beautiful courtyard, full of rose bushes. From right under where the boy was standing, Glossaryck fixed him an expectant look. Marco sighed and cut another portal with the scissors.

Swish!

He was down in the garden, looking at a long marble fountain with some statue of an angel spitting crystal clear water towards the sky. Glossaryck was now, somehow, on the roof of a gazebo.

Swish!

Marco was atop the gazebo. Glossaryck was sitting on the marble statue.

Swish!

Splash! Marco was inside the fountain. Glossaryck was atop the arches of one of the enclosing walls. And to make things even worse, Marco now had wet socks. Damn it! That was just the worst sensation ever.

Swish!

Marco was slowly walking atop the narrow wall, trying his best to keep the balance while wearing slippery wet shoes, as Glossaryck ran towards the wall, and towards yet another open window. The window was about three meters up from were the wall ended, but this didn't seem to matter to the spell book critter. He simply climbed up the wall as if he were still running on flat ground, and flung himself through the window.

To Marco's annoyance, he couldn't portal to a place he didn't know or couldn't see. Instead, he begun the process of climbing up the castle wall. If any guards saw him now, after what happened the last time he climbed through one of the castle's windows, he would have a really hard time explaining himself.

When he finally made it to the ledge of the window and was able to peek inside, he found no sign of Glossaryck. Instead, he saw a familiar blond man, short but muscular, with a beard half his own full length. King River was clad in a blue vest and wore a golden crown. He also wore an embossed silk velvet cape, dyed in tyrian purple, or maybe one of Mewni's four magical varieties, the squire noted.

Actually, this was good. River knew him. They both went way back. Marco had taught the king to stand up for himself and for his people. They shared a cell together for a week. They had been through a lot, and if there was someone around, other than Star and Moon, with the authority to give Marco a place to stay in the castle, it was the King of Mewni.

He was about to climb up of the window to say hi to him, when he heard a voice. It was an older female voice that did sound familiar as well, but that he wasn't quite able to place. Definitely not Moon. Moon would never speak to anyone with such venom, much less to her beloved husband. "River _Johansen_! Just the lout I was hoping to run into..."

"Ah, Etheria, dear, I only wish I could say the same," groaned River, badly concealing his chagrin. "And to what do I owe the... ahem... pleasure?"

"To what do you think? Once again, I am forced to call to your attention, feeble as it might be, towards the actions of that feral hoyden you call a daughter!"

Wait, was that woman talking about Star? Marco realized then where he knew her from: she had been at that Butterfly/Johansen picnic fiasco. The woman was Star's grand aunt or something, on the Butterfly side. That explained why she didn't seem to like River. Still, that didn't explain what her beef was with Star herself. River, apparently, seemed to have been thinking along the same lines.

"Now, Etheria, I know we have our differences, but you are not dragging my daughter into this," he remarked with some harshness. "I won't allow it! And neither would Moon-Pie!"

"Well, it simply must be said! My niece has always let her feelings get in the way of her better judgement." She eyed River up and down. "...Case in point."

She paused, and the two members of the royal family exchanged annoyed stares. Marco could almost see the years of animosity between them crackle in the space between their eyes.

"I myself have made some concessions as to the child's wild streak. Oh, believe me, I have. I almost managed to convince myself she had turned out alright enough, all things considered, given the paternal influence…" the elder woman added with disdain.

"Is this headed anywhere near any sort of point?" River asked impatiently. "I assure you I have more important things to do than listen to one more speech about your opinion of myself or my family. You made your feelings clear enough at our wedding, as I recall."

Marco, still hanging on the outside of the window, couldn't help but second River's wish for Etheria to leave.

"The point? The point is that your daughter is now harboring a dangerous fugitive, and preventing justice from being carried out on the most heinous villain in our history!" exclaimed Etheria.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the conclusion of her rant, so much as its second wind.

"Look, I have tried being reasonable," she protested. "I was willing to look the other way regarding those distasteful monster brawls she took up as a hobby. I am not even mentioning the incident of her fourteenth birthday. And, while I wish you two had sent her then to a proper educational institution, like Saint Olga's, I have come to accept Moon's decision to send her to that backwater dimension instead, but... this!? This is unacceptable! Defending Eclipsa, of all people! Surely she must have gotten that idea from your side of the family!"

"Ah, Etheria, hold on just one second there. With all due respect," interrupted River as she finally paused for air. His tone made it perfectly clear that, as far as he was concerned, the amount of respect the older woman was due was zero or pretty damn close to that, "and no offense to Moon-Pie, of course… But, well, I believe, after all, Eclipsa is _your_ side of the family."

Etheria went livid, eyes wide. "You… how dare you imply…" she grasped for a coherent argument. "You haven't heard the last of me, River Johansen!"

"Would that I be so lucky…" muttered River as the noblewoman left in a huff, walking back the same way she came.

Once Etheria was out of sight, Marco lifted himself over the ledge and jumped onto the castle floor. "Hey River."

The King's eyes went wide, followed by a grin. "Marco! Star told me you were working in the Wash now. What brings you to this part of the castle? And why didn't you use the stairs?"

"Um… it's sort of a long story," Marco said awkwardly. "Anyway, I accidentally overheard that conversation between you and Etheria. At first I didn't want to interrupt you guys but, yeah, I shouldn't have stuck around for that. I'm sorry."

Marco truly did feel ashamed for listening in on such a delicate conversation, but River didn't show the slightest bit of resentment towards the boy.

He shrugged. "There's no need for an apology. If anything, _I_ should feel sorry for _you_. You were hanging from the outside window, clinging for dear life, and the entire time you had to hear that hag's dreadful voice! Why, if I was in your situation, I may have chosen to let go and fall to my death rather than listen to another word from her!"

"Sheesh River. She's your family."

"She isn't family, Marco. She's an in-law! _Huge_ difference. And I'm sure with her the feeling is mutual! Moon-Pie's family never cared for the Johansen name, and they make no attempt to hide that from me!" The king began grinding his teeth.

Marco was then reminded of something. "Didn't the Johansens and Butterflies settle their differences during that game of Flags?"

River sighed. "In a way, yes. But once all the emotions settled, things went back to the way they always were. I gave up on trying to please them a long time ago. The best thing we can do is learn to deal with each other and coexist, for Star's sake."

Marco didn't necessarily agree, but it wasn't really his place to speak his mind. The matter had nothing to do with him.

River looked at the ground. "They can judge her all they want, but as her father, I couldn't be more proud."

Marco smiled. "Yeah, she really is amazing. I mean, just remembering the day she destroyed Toffee still gives me goosebumps." It truly was the most epic thing Marco had ever witnessed.

"Ah, er, yes. I suppose that was indeed something, but I was mostly referring to what she has accomplished _after_ she blasted that lizard to next Tuesday."

"After?"

"Fighting has never been an issue with Star. With her in combat, it is not a matter of _if_ , but _when_. She has the heart of a warrior, passionate with a love for adventure, but that by itself was a problem. She always preferred being on the battlefield or, corn, _anywhere_ that wasn't inside the castle."

Yeah, Star did have a tendency to ignore her future role as Queen. It was a heavy source of anxiety for her. She had confided that fact to Marco many times.

River continued. "Moon-Pie and I were worried she wouldn't have what it takes to run a kingdom. It is not a glamorous job, and we knew not every problem she'd face could be solved by simply punching it. So imagine our surprise, when she told us that she wasn't going to return to Earth for another school year!"

"Hey, you don't have to tell me. I was pretty shocked when she told me as well." But it wasn't like Marco could blame Star for wanting to stay on Mewni. Her entire kingdom was a complete mess after Toffee's defeat. She made the responsible decision and Marco fully supported her on that.

"Exactly. It's like she's a new person. She's even spending more time with her mother now. Right now they are visiting the Pigeon Kingdom, asking for funds and supplies."

"The… Pigeon Kingdom?" Marco asked dumbly. Oh, right, it must be another nation within Mewni, maybe named after the last name of the ruling family, like the _Butterfly_ Kingdom. For a second there he thought it was a kingdom of actual pigeons. How silly of him!

"Oh yes, Prince Rich Pigeon and Star have been well acquainted with each other for at least five Silver Bell Balls," River continued. "She probably has a better in with him than Moon-Pie and I do with his parents. Dance transcends the language barrier, after all…"

Marco had no idea what River was on about. But, then again, that was often the case.

"So, she and Moon are asking them for money?" Marco surmised.

"Yes, exactly!" River frowned. "Well, not, you know, _exactly_. Properly speaking, they are trying to secure a five year treaty involving both direct reconstruction aid, as well as a loan backed by variable interest rate royal bonds of the Butterfly Kingdom. So, basically, yes, they are begging for money."

Marco had never credited the Mewni financial system with being quite so complex.

"But anyhow, the important point is that I couldn't be any more proud of Star these days. She has grown into a fine responsible young woman, while still being braver than any other Johansen I've ever met," River beamed. "And I believe I have you, partly, to thank for it!"

The king patted Marco in the back with enough force to almost knock him down to the ground.

"Me?" Marco asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Oh yes, boy, I think her time in your dimension served Star well," the stout man continued. "It was both a learning experience, and a chance for her to unwind for a year or so, to get away from her responsibilities so she might be better prepared to handle them when she returned. A place like Saint Olga's would have crippled her, but your _Earth_ allowed her to grow. And, you, specifically, a responsible yet wilful young lad, were an excellent example for my daughter. For that, Marco, I am forever grateful!"

Wow. Marco didn't know what to say. He never knew King River felt that way about him, and his friendship with Star. It was sort of scary to think about what sort of responsibility being best friend to the future queen meant, when you put it that way. Wait a minute…

"If you are so grateful, though, then why did you give me the darn meat blanket?" he retorted, accusingly. "Your 'gift' made a fool of me. I really thought it meant something…"

"Oh, uh, sorry Marco," the king apologized, taken aback. Then, with a broad grin, he explained, "You see, it _did_ mean something, just perhaps not what you thought. I truly did appreciate your efforts during that crisis. I must admit, at first I couldn't for the life of me think of an appropriate gift for something like that. But, of course, that's when I had a brilliant idea: I could just lie!"

River clicked his fingers triumphantly, as if to demonstrate the moment of inspiration for such a momentous stroke of genius. Marco, dumbfounded by the brazenes of that confession, just stood there silent. The older man took that as an invitation to elaborate further.

"I could repurpose my old meat blanket into an invitation for knighthood! You get to feel good about yourself, while I finally have an excuse to buy a new blanket. A win-win all around, wouldn't you say?" Then, as an afterthought, he added, "and, of course, since we would likely never see you again, you'd get to keep that proud feeling for life!"

"So it didn't cross your mind once that I would take you up on the offer?" Marco asked. A second later, however, his brain caught up to the last thing the king had said, "... _Wait_! You guys thought you were never going to see me again!?" Marco felt more offended by that than anything else so far, truth be told.

"Well, of course, Marco," the king shrugged. "You were going back to Earth. Star was staying to help run the kingdom. It seemed like a fitting end to all that."

"What!? Look, River, Star is my best friend. Of course we weren't going to just never… never talk to each other again!" he stammered. "I have her ph… her compact mirror number! And I have dimensional scissors! I can be here from Earth in like one second, you know?"

"Well," River seemed to ponder this. "If it was that easy, Marco, why didn't you visit before now?"

That stopped Marco cold. Why hadn't he? Why hadn't he even called or texted Star before. They hadn't spoke at all in between him going back to Earth, and yesterday morning.

"Marco…" River spoke softly, at least by his standards. "You and Star lead very different lives, and she has matters weighing down on her that very few people are prepared to handle. Moon-Pie and I were also from different worlds. I was a Johansen, she is, and will always be, a Butterfly. I chose to live in her world. Take it from me, it is not an easy path to walk. You may have dimensional scissors, but at the end of the day, you can only be in one place at a time. You'll have to make sacrifices for the sake of being where you truly want to be."

The image of Jackie at the pier popped up in Marco's head, but he tried to dismiss it.

"I… I want to live in Star's world," Marco said, before realizing what he was implying. "I mean, she is my best friend. I want to live in Mewni, and be close to Star, for now, at least."

"Very well, Marco," River smiled. "If knighthood is what you desire, then it shall be so. You're still a far ways off, but I have the utmost faith in you!"

"Wait," Marco said, suddenly remembering the entire reason he was here. Not here in Mewni, but here in this hallway. Not Glossaryck, either. The original reason. "I sort of need a place to stay, River. Is there any way I can get a room in the castle?"

"Oh, absolutely!" the king beamed. Then he seemed to think a bit more and scratched his head a little. "Ah… well, you see, after that monster stomped all over the kingdom, many of the peasants lost their homes. Star asked us to house them in the castle while the reconstruction got started, so I am afraid all rooms are full to the brim!"

Oh, wow, Star had done that? Marco couldn't help but feel proud of her once more.

"But no worries," River continued. "Why, for a friend of the family, I am sure we can kick out a few more beggars into the streets! Is not like that would make a difference these days."

Holy crap. "River! That's... so cruel!"

"Please, Marco, our famously deadly Winter storms are still _months_ away," the older man pointed out. "They will be fine."

"What? No!" Marco retorted horrified. "Look, forget I asked. I'll find another place."

"Nonsense, I insist," River pushed. "Come to think of it... You will take a room in the palace, squire Diaz. That's an order from your king!"

Marco blinked. Was he _serious_? Oh crap, he was!

The boy took a deep breath, and fished inside his backpack pocket for something. Once he pulled it out, he looked at River straight in the eyes.

"Your majesty, I am honored," he began formally. "But a squire's duty is first to the people and then to his king. To do as you ask would violate my duty to the people of Mewni. I believe… this is yours."

Marco handed King River a blue piece of cloth. Not a cape, but a meat blanket.

"I see…" River took it, carefully. He paused for a second, then smiled and gave Marco a painful pat on the back. "Very well, I'll accept that argument, squire. In that case, you're dismissed."

Feeling vaguely uncomfortable, Marco quickly left the hallway before the king changed his mind again.

* * *

Marco returned to the Wash. He took the long way there - that is, he walked instead of using the scissors - since there was a chance he'd run into Glossaryck again.

He didn't see the diminutive old man, of course, but considering Marco's luck as of late, that didn't come as a surprise. He just hoped, wherever he was, that he was okay.

The squire looked around and noticed the entire facility was now devoid of clothing. Between him beginning his search for Star and his trek back, all eighty three thousand six hundred and forty two pieces had left, presumably to be delivered.

There was, also, no sign of Lavabo. Perhaps he had already left? No, it wasn't eight yet. Lavabo was nothing if not punctual, after all. Marco had gotten to know the old knight well enough to count on that, at least. He sat in one of the Wash's wooden chairs to wait for him.

It had been less than two hours since he last saw his mentor, yet a lot had happened to Marco in those two hours. Hell, he had been in Mewni for less than forty-eight hours, yet it felt like weeks. It was like Hekapoo's dimension all over again: time just seemed to dilate here. Just, you know, metaphorically, rather than painfully literally.

He wondered if it was the same for Star. If every day for her in Mewni since he left had been as overwhelming as his first two since coming back. Apparently, a lot had changed in her life: dating Tom, embracing her role as princess, working close with her mom to help rebuild their kingdom. There was the whole thing with Glossaryck being alive, and also a baby, or a pet, or something.

Besides, hadn't River said something about a person named Eclipsa? Apparently Eclipsa was a relative of Star's, but also a fugitive that she was protecting? Marco recalled seeing that name in the book of spells once, but there was no way it was referring to the same person. Then again, exactly how common was the name Eclipsa?

Marco lost that train of thought. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, his brain had been working on the realization that he knew very little about Star now. He didn't know what her life was like, he didn't know about her problems, about her goals, her dreams. Oh god, he was a terrible friend!

He also realized that, even if he stayed in Mewni, he wouldn't necessarily be able to hang out with Star. She had a different life now, one that didn't have a place for him in it anymore. And he was about to move in with Lavabo, and get sucked into the craziness that was this whole Order of the Wash business.

Was that what he wanted? Really? To become a knight of Mewni just because River had once played a practical joke on him that made him believe he was one already?

The thing is, if he wanted adventure, and he wanted respect, and a place to belong, with or without Star, well… He stared at the side of the dimensional scissors, at the name etched into the blades. There was already a place like that, wasn't there? He could go back to Hekapoo's dimension. He was a hero there, someone greater and mightier than any one knight of Mewni. There he had all the adventure he could handle, and often quite a bit more. If being Star's best friend was no longer an option, then, why not…

Marco's thoughts were interrupted by a cold nose against his leg. When he turned down, he saw, to his surprise, not a dog as he originally envisioned, but a familiar blue form.

"Glossaryck!" Marco called in surprise.

"Glooobgor," he stated lazily, and jumped right into Marco's lap. The old man then chased his own behind twice atop the boy's legs, and proceeded to fall asleep right on Marco's knees.

Marco sighed. Well, if nothing else, he should return Glossaryck to Star.

A moment later, he was stepping out of a portal into her room. It was funny, but knowing for sure she wouldn't be there actually made it easier. She was, after all, visiting that Rich Pidgeon guy with her mom.

Marco placed Glossaryck gently on the bed. The magic man remained asleep.

Well, that was it. All done here. Off to find Nachos or whatever. Perhaps he should find Lavabo and say his goodbyes first?

Then again…

Marco opened his backpack, and pulled out a single sheet of paper, and a pen.

 _Hey Star._

 _Hopefully you aren't peeved out by the fact that this letter being here means I was alone in your room. I only came to see if you wanted to hang out, but then Glossaryck squeezed his way out of the locked door and I spent the better part of an hour trying to catch him._

 _I brought him back here, and decided it was a good chance to reply to your letter. The little guy's fast asleep, so he should be fine. You may want to find a better way of keeping him in one place, since he might try the same stunt again next time you're gone._

 _Just noticed a bag of diapers and that case of Corn Chips next to your bed. Guess you're the one in charge of taking care of him? Man, you have so much on your plate right now. In addition to everything else you do, you also need to care for your own magic mentor. No wonder you were mad at me yesterday. You probably don't get that many chances to be with Tom, and I just came out of nowhere to ruin the day for both of you._

 _I'm really sorry about that. There's actually a lot I need to apologize for. To everyone. I was unbearable these last few weeks. I just kept bragging about what a cool knight I was, even though I most definitely was not a knight, and everything I did during Ludo's invasion amounted to nothing. I guess when you have nothing going for you, you cling on to whatever small accomplishments come to mind. I was given a participation trophy in the form of a meat blanket, and boy did I make sure everyone knew I participated!_

 _You know what's funny? Even though I went through Hekapoo's scissors quest, full of adventure and danger, the hardest part didn't come til the morning after I returned to Earth, when I had to wake up early to take the laser puppies out. Now THAT was a challenge. I guess that says something about me. Going on adventures where you mainly interact with psychopathic clones and non sentient monsters was a lot easier than, you know, doing chores, or being a good boyfriend, or a good friend in general._

 _Deep down, I guess I only came here because I thought it would be easy. I had messed up every relationship I had on Earth, so the next logical step was to start over somewhere else. Everyone here would love me by default because I was a knight, so I wouldn't have to put in any effort. Everything would be handed to me and it'd be nothing but fun adventures all day with you._

 _And I was horribly wrong. Turns out barely anyone remembers or has any reason to respect me, the workload in the Wash is intense and repetitive, and it looks like we aren't going to see each other as often as I hoped. But, that's okay._

 _Star, I'm really proud of you. It must have been really difficult for you to decide to not go back to Earth. Actually, I know it was difficult. You loved everything about Earth since the day you started living there, and no one would have blamed you for wanting another stress-free year after the hell you went through during that battle._

 _But instead, you looked at the shape of your kingdom and decided to stay and help. You gave a shelter to your homeless citizens, you're getting into politics with other kingdoms, and you even moved past your grudge against Tom and worked things out with him. Your dad said I may have had something to do with you changing over the last year, but you were the one who put in the effort._

 _I need to change as well. I can't keep running away from every problem life throws at me. I kept ignoring the problems between me and Jackie until it was too late to fix them. I could use my scissors and go on adventures for the rest of my life, but that won't make me a better person._

 _That's why I want to stay here and learn from Lavabo. I want to learn the ins and outs of the Wash and master it, and honestly, it's probably the place in the multiverse where I'm needed the most. You were right, Lavabo is a really cool guy, and is the best thing for me right now, and I can't thank you enough for getting me this job!_

 _Best Wishes - Marco Diaz, Squire of the Wash and Future Knight of the Butterfly Kingdom_

After reading it over a few times, Marco began to realize that this letter came off as really cheesy. Oh well, it's not like he didn't mean every word of it, and he sort of needed to get all that off his chest. He felt better already.

Marco put the letter on Star's desk and glanced at Glossaryck one more time to confirm he was indeed asleep. He opened a portal into the Wash and walked through it.

Upon reaching the other end, he saw Lavabo looking over a particularly large backpack. That must've been where he carried his supplies. The knight had a pencil and notepad in his hands, checking off various boxes.

"Ah, Marco Diaz, did you forget something?" the old man said, not even turning around. The sound of the portal was enough to tell him who was there.

"Um, so, you still have a room available for me?"

Lavabo turned to face the squire and smiled.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Hey Guys! Sorry for the delayed chapter! This one went through a lot of changes but we hoped you liked the final product. Also apologies to anyone who reads my other Star vs. fic, _A Habit Hard to Break_ , as that chapter is still being worked on. Full time jobs make it very difficult to find time for writing.**

 **This is the end of the first arc, so to speak. Since Marco is spending an entire year in Mewni, there will be time skips between each arc. Some big, some small, so keep that in mind.**

 **Next arc will be the Squire Blowout Sale. Get hype!**


	6. Chapter 6: A Trial Awaits

Sun rays filtered through the gaps between the boards that formed the eastern annex's walls, the dawn's brightness forcing its way through stubbornly closed eyelids. Marco groaned and tossed around, very much aware that he wasn't sound asleep anymore.

Fantastic. The one day he was allowed to sleep in until late, and now even that had been taken away from him by shoddy mewman construction. He didn't even want to think about how cold this room would get during the winter. He'd be lucky if he didn't freeze to death!

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a long yawn. As his mind began to emerge from the depths of drowsiness, the young squire felt a small tinge of shame at his previous thoughts.

Man, there were thousands of people out on the actual streets after that huge monster stomped all over town, and Ludo and Toffee's subsequent invasion, and here he was: having a two floor building all to himself, and complaining about the walls not being quite as sturdy as he would have wished. Lavabo would be so disappointed if he could hear him speak, er, think like that. Wouldn't he?

Well, is not like Marco wasn't doing his part, working in the wash, helping people have clean flea-free clothes every week. And there was no use in denying that life in Mewni was hard for him, used as he was to all the comforts back on Earth. It was only natural that he grumbled a little bit.

He had, by the way, asked Lavabo why they weren't hosting anyone else in the old but fairly large estate. Marco had explained what Star had done, and after the knight had remarked on how wise of a ruler the princess was shaping up to be, the boy had suggested they actually follow her example and do the same with the empty old manor or its annex.

"Ah, Marco Diaz, a noble impulse, but alas, I am afraid none would take that offer. Nor should they! Any of them would be safer within the city and its surrounding magical barrier, than they would be out here, even inside the manor proper," and that had been the end of that discussion.

Honestly, Marco didn't know what the old man was afraid of. Nothing dangerous had happened to him in here so far. Sure, the nearby woods looked rather uninviting, but the estate grounds themselves seemed safe enough, as long as you watched your step for old hunting traps.

On top of the plain wooden bedside table to his right, was the lunch he had left for himself last night. It consisted of two pieces of a pale yellowish mewnian flatbread, a jar of jam, a small container filled with butter, a glass of milk, and, of course, an ear of corn.

The bread was a new dish for the squire, one of the few things he had managed to find at Lavabo's place that wasn't yet another ear of corn or a condiment intended for corn. As exciting as Mewni might otherwise be, Marco was definitely missing some variety in his meals, so he was glad to have found something to eat that wasn't the omnipresent yellow cob.

He did what he usually did with new foods, and methodically began his meal by trying the bread itself first, without any add ons.

Crap! Of course...

He should have seen it coming. Shouldn't he? It was salty bread made out of corn flour! Like some sort of fattened up corn tortilla. Man, what he wouldn't give for some Captain Blanche's Sugar Seeds instead... he was getting so tired of corn!

Marco had to admit, however, that the jam was not bad at all. It was clearly made out of either a combination of fruits, or some fruit that wasn't available back on Earth, at least none that the boy knew of. It was red and tasted a bit like cherry and a bit like fig, but not nearly as sweet, and it had a slight spicy tang to it. It shouldn't have worked, particularly not with the strange bread, but it did. It wasn't really sweet enough for a jam, as Marco understood the concept, and it definitely wasn't a hot sauce, but rather something in between. Suddenly, some of Star's bizarre food preferences began making sense to him. It almost made up for the disappointing corn bread.

Once he finished eating, Marco jumped out of his bed and walked to a battered old wooden dresser. It looked like it might once have been a fine piece of furniture: the edges showed splinter-ridden protrusions that perhaps used to be ornaments, and it still had half a cracked mirror on one of its two doors. It was the kind of thing that would have been called an _'antique'_ back on Earth, if it were in better condition. As it was now, however, Marco was pretty sure that the proper Earth term for it was just _'garbage'_.

He opened the ancient thing, retrieving both a fresh change of clothes he had prepared the day before, as well as a bar of soap, a neatly folded towel, and a wooden bucket from the bottom shelf. A good squire was an organized squire, after all.

He climbed down the stairs of the annex, carrying all of the above, plus his knife and plate, as well as the keychain that normally hung on the inside of the building's door.

The annex was a sort of improvised eastern wing of the manor, built atop a now empty granary. With food shortages in the kingdom being what they were, knights hoarding grain (corn, presumably) would have been a dishonorable act in and of itself. Plus, Marco was sure Lavabo's land hadn't been worked on in decades. As he made his way towards the stream, the overgrown weeds under his feet reinforced that conviction.

The annex stood directly to the side of the main building. Unlike the former, the later was not made out of mostly wood, but rather built up entirely of large stone bricks. It had no windows on the first floor, and a total of three small gates guarded by sturdy reinforced doors. A lookout tower, flying the flag of the Butterfly Kingdom above the banner of the Order of the Wash, stood slightly taller than the rest of the two-floor construction, facing north.

To call Lavabo's place a castle would have been greatly overselling it. But it was definitely intended to be some kind of fortification back in the day. Marco guessed that made sense, it was right on the eastern outskirts of the Butterfly Kingdom, practically at the doorstep of the Forest of Certain Death.

It was apparently also only a few miles away from what was technically the Johansen Kingdom. While both kingdoms enjoyed peaceful and ostensibly cordial relations now, on account of their families being united by Moon and River's marriage, Marco could easily imagine that not always being the case. Hell, after overhearing that conversation between Etheria and River, the whole thing felt less like an alliance and more like a detente.

Correspondingly, around both the main building and the annex, was a reasonably tall and fully one foot thick stone wall. It had a single small opening, which was, currently, missing a door. There was a second wall (this one with a door), Marco knew, at the edge of the estate itself and, between the two, a few hectares of overgrown weeds, thorn bushes, and untrimmed grass. There were also a few fruit trees, and a brook that passed right through the middle of Lavabo's lands.

It was this brook towards which Marco was now headed. He made sure to keep to the few clear paths, where the vegetation growth had been crushed by the regular steps of the Knight of the Wash and his, rather few, guests. He knew better than to jump carelessly onto the undergrowth. Not only could there be snakes in there but, for some reason, it seemed someone had set up a number of bear traps down there where the weeds where the thickest. Perhaps another old defense? Like a low tech minefield?

He soon reached the familiar shallow river. During the Summer rains, Lavabo had explained, it could only be crossed at the singular stone bridge inside the estate. At this time, however, it was thin enough that Marco was sure he could leap it if he really tried, and could easily wade through it.

First, he cleaned the plate and knife on the stream, scrubbing them with his hands after frothing some soap, and wrapping them in a cloth afterwards. Then he disrobed, and, ah, went to do his business behind a bush. After that, he completed his morning routine with a quick bath.

Using the bucket to pour water on his naked body, and the soap to clean himself, Marco proceeded to wash. He really missed plumbing and Earth-style showers, but he was actually sort of surprised how quickly he got over it as a practical matter. Then again, he liked going out camping back on Earth and this was pretty similar, just, you know, for an entire year.

A few minutes later, he dried himself off with the towel, got dressed, collected back all his things and continued his way towards the outer gate. He wanted to check on the mailbox outside, maybe there was another letter from Star today.

The outermost wall of Lavabo's estate was thinner than the inner walls, more of a tall brick fence against the creatures of the forest, than a defence in case of armed invasion. It was still thrice as tall as the human boy, and the iron-reinforced oak door at the gate looked sturdy enough to stop an angry bear. Then again, Marco knew for a fact that, deep within the forest, there were things far worse than bears. Hydras, for one.

However, this was only the outskirts of the Forest of Certain Death, and so the squire saw no issue in unlocking the chained padlock, removing the heavy wooden bar that secured the front door, and stepping out of the knight's lands.

Right outside, was the imposing iron box which served as the estate's mailbox. Marco began searching his keychain for the particular key that opened the back of the spike-topped metal box, when he noticed a pair of coal-like glowing red eyes staring at him from behind the nearby treeline.

Crap!

Marco jumped backwards just as the creature leaped forward, landing where he had just been. It let out an ominous growl, like the sound of trees swaying and cracking under an extraordinarily strong gale.

It was with this thought that the squire realized how the creature had managed to remain so well camouflaged until he met its eyes. It was made entirely out of wood!

Its skin was rough brown tree bark, with a patch of green moss growing on its flank. Its legs and body were trunk-like, but shaped crudely into animal limbs. The whole thing was a bizarre cross between a lion and a bull; all splintered claws, and fangs, and two sharp long horns. Worse still, the beast was almost as tall on four legs as Marco was on two.

Sensibly, the boy ran for the door, smashed it behind him without a hint of hesitation, and dropped back the heavy wooden bar on its latch. There, with his back to the door, he let out a sigh of relief.

Yeah, um, nope! No way he was fighting that thing over the freaking mail. He would simply check it later that afternoon, and only after making sure the creature was gone.

He was wondering whether he should tell Lavabo about the monster, when he heard another wooden growl, this one coming from above.

Marco looked up and, to his horror, he saw that the beast was standing atop the outer wall itself. Effortlessly, it jumped down once more, landing right in front of him. A green vine-like tongue licked the edge of a row of sharp splinter-teeth.

"Ah there kitty kitty…" Marco tried, rather lamely, to soothe the ligneous feline. His hand immediately reached for his right pocket, while he held his left palm in front of him, as if hoping the hungry creature would respect his _'stop'_ gesture.

In response, the monster patted the floor a few times with its right paw, lowered its head, and charged at Marco like an enraged bull.

The squire pulled out his dimensional scissors, and cut a hole in front of his body, fully intending to send this creature barrelling into Brita's Tacos if he had to. Fortunately for anyone working the drive through that morning, and unfortunately for Marco, the beast jumped aside in the last minute, agile like a cat.

It swiped at the boy with its paw from his left, but Marco was already running towards the opposite direction.

It wasn't much of a chase, really. The creature leaped once and landed right ahead of him.

Resigned to fighting the thing, Marco put away the scissors and pulled out the knife he had just cleaned before. A butter knife.

'Marco, you idiot, you are fighting a lion-bull-thing with a damn butter knife!' he thought to himself, in the second between when he first brandished the weapon and the monster again leaped towards him, mouth wide open.

Now, fortunately for him, the medieval land of Mewni had not discovered aluminum. This meant that knives, even butter knives, were made of iron or, as was the case with Lavabo's, steel. So when Marco stuck the piece of cutlery vertically in between the creature's jaws, it was thankfully able to withstand the pressure of the wooden mandibles, keeping them from closing around the boy's hand. The fact that the knife was dull, however, meant that the squire managed to anger and confuse the beast far more than to injure it. The blade didn't even lodge properly on its hard wooden palate.

That, however, still meant an opportunity for Marco to counter-attack. Before the beast could spit out the implement, Marco was already on his feet again, and poised for combat. Drawing on years of karate practice, he aimed his strongest kick at the creature's left paw, and drove into it right at the joint with all he had.

He had imagined himself breaking the animal's leg in two as if it were a stack of training boards. Turns out that, whatever the creature was made of, it was a sturdier type of wood than the plywood boards he was used to. Pain shot through Marco's leg and for a moment he was afraid it was his own limb that had been broken.

But the beast let out a yelp of pain as well, like a high note from a badly tuned wooden pipe organ, and Marco was thankfully reassured that he had dealt more damage than he had received. Then again, the thing had four legs, and he only had the two. He couldn't afford to keep exchanging blows like that.

Wait! That was it. He didn't need to! There was a much better way to cripple this creature.

Marco ran, hurriedly, towards a nearby patch of weeds, the tallest he could find. The creature, angered by the squire's last strike, followed in furious pursuit. Even with a damaged leg, it could still move way faster than the boy could. Besides, his own leg complained with every hurried stride.

He couldn't outrun this thing. But, then again, that wouldn't be a problem for long. He just needed to reach the tall grass and then, take a leap of faith, in more ways than one...

He jumped over the tall patch, barely clearing it. The monster jumped right behind him, falling into the overgrown area, snapping at him with sharp wooden fangs even as Marco rolled away on all fours. If he was wrong, he would likely not get a chance to stand up again. The beast had no problem with the vegetation, to its instincts it probably looked like the perfect place to hide.

It was.

The perfect place to hide a bear trap, that is!

The creature's agonized roar sounded like the cracking of a tree trunk. Marco could say that with some confidence, since he had the sound of its wooden right hind leg cracking, as the metal maw of the trap snapped around it, for comparison.

Well, it seemed Marco had just realized what all the traps were there for, 'Ah, yes, angry timber chimeras can jump into this place any second, and we place traps accordingly! Aren't you glad I told you this, Marco Diaz?' 'Why yes, Sir Lavabo, I am particularly glad I didn't have to figure this out on my own while pursued by such a creature'.

The beast growled and trashed. Marco scrambled to get out of its reach. It limped towards him, but the heavy iron chain now held the creature tied to the ground. It struggled against it, seemingly in vain.

Until, unfortunately, Marco heard one more crack, and the bull-lion monstrosity broke free, leaving its own splintered limb inside the trap. It ended in a sharp jagged stump, like the cracked wooden beam of a house.

The thing turned towards him again, regarding the boy with cautious hatred. It growled at the squire. And then… it turned away.

It limped towards the outer wall of Lavabo's estate and, not without significant struggle, climbed up the stone barrier again. From that perch, the beast directed one final angry growl at Marco. It then less jumped and more let itself fall towards the side of the forest. In either case, it had seemingly decided that the human boy was more trouble than the paltry meal he represented was worth.

It took a few moments for the terrified squire to catch his breath, and even longer for him to feel safe enough taking his sight off the top of the outer wall.

God that was so intense! Could his relaxing day off become anymore hectic!?

Marco took a minute to carefully examine his injured leg. While he would be limping on it for most of the day, he was confident it would feel better by nightfall. He was lucky.

Lavabo had mentioned the importance of not taking unnecessary risks. Any accidental damage caused to your body would lead to less work getting done in the Wash, and that place was intense enough that it'd be hard for you to heal properly and still tend to your duties. If that thing had done more than it did to Marco, his squireship could've been over right there, and he'd have to return home.

After staring at the creature's shattered limb, still caught on the bear trap, for a few seconds, Marco began to ponder something. This was the first time he had ever seen something like that since living here. Marco went out to get the mail several times before, but those times the forest looked deserted.

But what if it had been hiding in those woods the entire time? Watching Marco's repetitive morning routine of mail collection each day? Enough times to where it was sure today was the day it could take him out by surprise? Marco felt stupid for allowing an animal to trick him into a false sense of security like that.

He now understood why Lavabo believed it was for the best that no civilians lived with them. Thinking about how one of those wooden creatures could've come after his parents during that _'vacation'_ months back made Marco realize just how lucky he was, but if he was going to survive Mewni, he needed more than just dumb luck.

Thankfully, Marco had his dimensional scissors. They may be awkward in combat at times, as this last encounter just proved, but they had plenty of other applications. The squire closed his eyes, cleared his mind and only thought of the inside of the mailbox. Once the image appeared in his head, he opened a portal small enough for his hand to fit through and retrieved several papers.

Ha! Take that, Nature!

Marco triumphantly made his way to a nearby tree stump and sat on it.

He normally wouldn't examine someone's personal mail, but Lavabo lived a reclusive life outside his work. He didn't have any family from what Marco could tell, so all of his mail ended up being flyers for various mewman businesses. Reading these were part of Marco's morning ritual; it helped him paint a better picture of the Mewni outside Butterfly Castle's walls, and he always held onto the flyers of places he wanted to visit once he had the time.

Let's see now…

One flyer was for a standard looking restaurant that was near Town Square. Their signature dish was a calzone that could predict your death. Ehh, at least it wasn't corn-based… as far as he knew.

Another one was for this dimensional importer that sold exotic goods from a variety of places. Marco supposed that anyone with dimensional scissors could make a business of this type, but man was it all expensive. $650 for a 'I Love NY' shirt, no thanks!

The next flyer made Marco's stomach drop. It was one for St. Olga's Reform School for Wayward Princesses. He had assumed the worst until realizing the flyer had been heavily edited with crayons and glitter.

The dark clouds that were meant to invoke a sense of dread were now obscured by a crudely-drawn rainbow that traveled several pages. The melancholic moon in the upper left was now… a disco ball?

Several changes like that were made to show St. Olga's was not the same hell-hole since Heinous was kicked out, which was definitely a good thing. From what Pony Head had told him, the place had been turned into a sort of club house for princesses; a place where they could relax, have fun, and forget about their future responsibilities, if just for a little while. In a sense, it was kind of like how Star treated Earth.

Oh! Speaking of Star, he still needed to see if she sent him a letter. The squire placed St. O's flyer down and flipped through the rest of the mail. As if the seemingly random assortment of papers had a mind of its own, and wanted to play with Marco's anticipation, the letter in question was the very last item. He recognized the familiar 'To Marco' on the envelope.

Marco smiled giddily. He had told Star in his last letter that he wouldn't be in the Wash today, so he had given her Lavabo's address. Hopefully his subtle hint that he had the day off was conveyed well enough. If he was lucky, Star would want to use this once-a-week opportunity to hang out with him, if she had the time, that is. The idea of them exploring the town together and visiting all the places in the flyers Marco had kept sounded like the perfect day!

He opened the letter and began reading.

 _Hey Marco!_

 _I really hope this letter reaches you. The Mewni mailman tends to have a hard time delivering to anywhere that's outside the kingdom's barrier. If you're reading this letter and are not Marco Ubaldo Diaz, then please place this letter on the corpse you found it next to and walk away. There is_ _sensitive_ _information beyond this paragraph and reading further without my permission will be considered an offense punishable by Narwhal Blast. You have been warned!_

 _Anyway, if you don't mind, Marco, I sorta wanna get into serious mode for a bit. This has been on my chest for a while._

 _So I went to a funeral a few days ago. I have been going to a lot of those lately, actually, but this one was for a great-aunt or something named Syrma Butterfly. I didn't really know her that well, so you could imagine the whole thing was super awkward. Everyone was crying and talking about what a great person she was, and I just kept to myself by the punch bowl._

 _Later on everyone was gathered around telling all these great stories about her, and eventually I started crying as well. Not because I missed Aunt Syrma, but because I didn't know her to begin with, and I realized it was all my fault._

 _Even though I lived with them in the castle my entire life, I was never that close with my mom's side of the family. Unlike my dad's family, they were always so stressful to be around. Scolding me for fighting monsters and bad-table manners, asking me stupid questions about becoming queen. I avoided them whenever I could, and I always felt justified for keeping my distance._

 _For the longest time, I thought my own grandmother was living on a 'Grandma Farm' in a faraway land somewhere, until my mom told me she had actually died way before I was even born. At first I was like 'Geez, thanks Mom for lying to me about that my entire life,' but now I wonder why I didn't ever ask to visit Grandma in the first place. Was I just afraid of meeting yet another naggy relative?_

 _I was unfair to all of them, including my mom. Yes, they can be stressful to talk to and are very, very, demanding, but I think that's just their way of looking out for me. They want me to be ready to take over the kingdom and all that. I bet if I got to know Syrma we would've gotten along great. I'm not gonna make the same mistake. I wanna start making good memories with these people. They're my family after all!_

 _Sorry to dump this on you, Marco. I don't know why but I think putting this all on paper first helped me figure out how I was gonna approach this. I already feel less guilty about it and am more determined to make things right! So thanks for listening!_

 _I guess another reason I started thinking about this stuff is because I've been spending more time with Eclipsa, who is also family but unlike the others is super fun to talk to. Even if she wasn't my grandma, I'd still consider her great great great great great great great great great! If you know what I mean ;)_

 _And yes, don't worry, I HAVE been careful around her! I still don't see what the big deal is. Eclipsa doesn't even know how to use wandless magic. She's just a harmless granny._

 _Okay this letter has been really rambly. Just one more thing before I let you go!_

 _I already knew you wouldn't be at the Wash today, because the Squire Blowout is happening! I was sorta, maybe, kinda, perhaps wondering if you could get me a palm tree outfit while you're there! I always wanted one, but they're usually super expensive, but with the discount squires get during the Blowout, it should cost pocket change. Obviously I'm not a squire, so if you could get one on my behalf I would really appreciate it! If not then that's okay too!_

 _Ugh, my hand hurts. Okay, done for realies this time. Hope you enjoyed your first week in the Wash and have fun at the Blowout!_

 _Best Wishes - Star Butterfly, Princess and Future Queen of the Butterfly Kingdom._

Man, Marco could practically feel the carpal tunnel syndrome Star must have received after writing such a long letter. This was a deviation from the norm, as it was usually Marco who ended up writing the lengthy and very-not-to-the-point letters. That funeral for Lady Syrma must of really affected her. It was nice Star was willing to open up to him like this again. It felt like old times...

And, similar to those old times, Star was asking Marco to go on an adventure to get some frivolous thing. Granted, in the old times she usually came with him, but it felt a little nostalgic to be told she wanted some gimmicky outfit. Moreso since, knowing Star, he could already foresee the ridiculously dangerous quest which would be involved in getting said silly costume.

Marco re-read that particular paragraph and frowned. What even _was_ a Squire Blowout? He didn't have the slightest clue. The term sounded like something you'd hear during a Black Friday sale.

...

Something in Marco's head clicked and he searched through the rest of the unread mail until he had found what he needed: A small pamphlet addressed to both Marco _and_ Lavabo.

 _'_ _Greetings, young Squire. You and your knight have been formally selected by the Butterfly Kingdom to partake in Quest Buy's ten thousandth annual Squire Blowout! Tonight and tonight only, you can get an entire year's worth of equipment and supplies in just one chaotic night!'_

 _'What's that? Poverty and Famine got you down? No problem! During this squire-exclusive sale, our featured Quest Buy items will be 99% off MSRP! Wow!'_

 _'Supplies_ _ **will**_ _be limited, so plan ahead and prioritize the essentials! Your knight will be counting on you! Show your appreciation to them! Bling them out so they can display their superiority! Make your peers question their career paths! Buy! Buy!_ _ **Buy**_ _!'_

 _'_ _Disclaimer: Quest Buy and its affiliates are in no way legally responsible for any injuries, burns, scratches, memory loss, decapitation, itchiness, eternal damnation, missing possessions, lost children-'_ and it sort of went on for another 3 paragraphs.

Oh no. Quest Buy…

Wait! 'Tonight and tonight only'? An _annual_ sale? Did Lavabo even know about this? Marco had to hurry up and tell the old knight, not only because it seemed like a good chance for both of them to get real knight gear, but also because Star's gift request was the perfect excuse to visit her in person!

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **Surprise surprise, we are not dead!**

 **Look, a lot of you have mentioned that the release schedule, or lack thereof, does interrupt the flow of reading this story. We hear you, we really do. Unfortunately, for various reasons, this really cannot go any faster than it does on our end, at least not without trading off quality for speed, which we really don't want to do.**

 **The good news, however, is that for one time only, as a special Quest Buy promotion, we can actually guarantee you that Chapter 7 will be out in a week!**

 **... because we already pretty much wrote it... since the original idea for this chapter grew into a double-length monstrosity. But still, this means guaranteed shorter wait for Ch07, and hopefully a better than usual delay between 07 and 08!**


	7. Chapter 7: Making Friends

"Sir Lavabo! Sir Lavabo!" Marco shouted as he knocked on the manor's front gate, still panting a little from running all the way from the far side of the estate. His leg still hurt, but only barely.

"Ah, Marco Diaz, please, come on in. It is open," replied a calm voice through the sturdy door. "Are you mayhap under pursuit? If so, please hold on for just a moment, I'll be able to lend my assistance as soon as I have finished just this one ear of corn."

What? No, he was fine. Also, wait, did that mean that if he _were_ being pursued by a monster right now, Lavabo would finish eating and _then_ try to help him!? Marco shook his head and pulled the door towards him, walking in on the Knight of the Wash eating breakfast.

"No, I am not _'under pursuit'_. But, for the record, sir, I did encounter some sort of wood monster earlier this morning," Marco noted. "A heads up about those would have been nice!"

"Ah, a 'wooden monster', you say? A True Timberwolf, perhaps? Or an Elmbeast? Maybe even a Greater Oakwolf? Certainly not the dreaded Ironwood Ursus! Not this far out of the forest…"

Um, did that mean there were multiple murderous creatures made of wood roaming around? Crap! Marco was pretty sure he understood now why nobody else lived out here.

"Look, I don't know what any of those are, it didn't look like a wolf, I almost broke my leg kicking it, and I am only alive because I remembered about the bear traps!" Marco complained.

"The Elmbeast most likely, then. Had it been an Oakwolf or an Ironwood, you would most likely have truly broken your leg." Lavabo wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Please do not risk that in the future, Marco Diaz, a broken leg would greatly interfere with your duties."

"You know what would also interfere with my duties?" the squire asked irritated. "Being eaten!"

Lavabo blinked.

"Yes, I suppose it would," the knight admitted, somewhat taken aback. "But I would not expect a paltry beast like that to defeat a squire of the Order of the Wash. Particularly not one showing such great promise as yourself, Marco Diaz."

Marco almost blushed at the compliment. Ah, right, Lavabo expected a lot of him. He had since day one, since the Lint Monster. Clearly the reason he didn't think of warning him, and would have had him wait out an attack while he finished breakfast, was that the old knight was quite confident on his squire's ability to handle anything Mewni might throw at him. So it wasn't him simply being unconcerned about the boy's safety after all. Was it?

"I assume you kept the body?" the knight asked pointedly.

"Eh, I, I kept a leg, sir," Marco stammered.

"That's ...not much," reflected Lavabo, scratching his head. "Elmbeast bark's ashes are a prime ingredient for some of the most versatile alchemical soaps, and their flank is by far the prime cut of their wood. The leg alone is hardly enough for even a single bar of soap." He paused for an instant. "Tell you what, Marco Diaz, starting next week, I shall teach you all I know about dealing with the forest's beasts. I shall indeed need help hunting for supplies, after all, and it could also help prevent an unlikely career ending accident of the sort you just described…"

"Ah, yes, that would be great sir, thanks," Marco replied, half reasured, half terrified about what a hunting trip with Lavabo might entail. "But, sir… speaking of supplies, what I wanted to show you is, well… this."

He handed Lavabo the Midnight Warrior Blowout Sale invitation, 'For knights and their squires only'. As much as Marco hated Quest Buy, it did seem less dangerous than a hunting trip inside the Forest of Certain Death, if only barely.

The old knight's eyes went wide, and Marco could have sworn a tear had begun to form on the right one. "Marco Diaz, this is truly amazing news! Why didn't you say so first?"

"I tried to…" Marco complained, only to be interrupted.

"It's been so long! I haven't been to one of these sales since I myself was a squire! Oh youth... You see, only a knight and squire pair is a valid entrant into their sale, it is tradition, and I never had... ah, I never had a squire, not until now… Marco Diaz, I am ever so honored to…" He stopped short, noticing the rest of the invitation details. "Oh, but we must hurry! Grab some paper and a quill, I'll try to make a list of what we need along the way…"

"Actually, sir," Marco smiled, confidently. "I don't think we are _quite_ so short on time. I mean, we can always just join them all at Quest Buy."

He took out the dimensional scissors from his pocket and proudly spun them around in his hand. He might or might not have tried to raise an eyebrow too.

Lavabo frowned.

"Marco Diaz, I appreciate the gesture. However, that will not do," he remarked solemnly. "For you see, while the supplies we will get tonight are indeed invaluable to the Wash and to our sworn duties in general, that is not at all the true intent behind the knight and squire blowout sale tradition. It is, instead, first and foremost, an opportunity for both generations of our gentel tradition to meet and to mingle and to deepen the bonds of camaraderie of our chivalric profession, in a safe and amiable environment. We must, thus, endeavor to make our best impression, and to represent all of the knightly virtues, humility chief among them! To show off in such manner as you suggest, from the very moment of our arrival, would thus run counter to the very purpose of this crucial opportunity to build goodwill among our peers. We must tread the same paths as the other knights and squires, as comrades, or else not join them at all. Therefore, Marco Diaz, we shall walk, and we _must_ hurry…"

"Uh… ok… sure..." Marco tried his best to hide his disappointment as he put the scissors away and rushed for his bag and supplies.

Geez, ok, Lavabo was probably right on this one, but did it really hurt to show off for once? From what he had seen of the other knights of Mewni so far, that whole thing about humility being chief among their virtues was a bunch of crap anyways.

Also, if they were in such a hurry, then surely the old knight could have said the same thing in like one tenth as many words…

* * *

It turned out, Lavabo had two lists to dictate to Marco, as they literally jogged through the mewnian countryside. The first was apparently the 'standard' squire blowout list. A squire was supposed to help outfit their knight with armor, weapons, dragon repellent, and a young war horse, among a few other items. Yes, he was supposed to literally buy Lavabo a pony!

But that was the _short_ list. The long list was this endless wishlist of cleaning implements, detergents, magical waxes and oils, and other magical reagents useful in the job of cleaning clothes. And, Lavabo insisted, both lists were of the utmost importance to fulfill. Plus, he had that other special request, the one Star had asked for… Man, getting that dumb palm tree costume might be his best chance to casually meet up with Star, if only to deliver the prop.

It was weird, but over the last week they had exchanged letters almost daily, some short and some long, and yet Marco hadn't dared outright suggest that they hang out. He had hinted at it, a few times, but Star was not one for getting subtle clues. After his first two days in Mewni, he had not tried to just find Star again on his own either, given how busy she seemed to be. But if he got her the costume, then he had the perfect excuse to go deliver it to her. Not that he needed an excuse, of course. After all, is not like things were bad between the two of them. Is just, well, that way it would be a bit more, dunno, natural, right?

On the way to the southern fields, they passed a foreboding mountain, crowned with snow and bisected by a flowing stream of lava. Marco recognized the place. It was the _'hill'_ of the king-of-the-hill-like Game of Flags. It was a senseless brutal bloodsport by which both sides of Star's family regularly engaged each other in competition. Marco had only been there the one time - which, side note, he totally won - and that had been enough to give him a long term sense of alarm about the dynamics of the Butterfly-Johansen feud. That talk between River and Etheria the other day didn't help matters there one bit.

Marco, more aware of the geographical position of that hill in between the two allied kingdoms than he had been back on that day, now wondered about the first time both families had fought over its peak. Had it been a game that day too, or a field of battle? He briefly considered asking Sir Lavabo. But the old knight preempted him with the words: "Twice diluted 'Blood of Regin' potion, for the _cuir bouilli_ of dragonhide, half a gallon at least, three-quarters prefered."

Marco hurried to write that up, his earlier thoughts forgotten.

* * *

Marco and Sir Lavabo arrived at the meeting point near the southern corn fields just in time. They crossed the top of the nearest foothills, just as the trumpet called the encamping warriors to attention. Marco recognized the owner of such trumpet. Star's family majordomo of sorts: Manfred.

"Knights of Mewni, squires, attention," the vaguely snobbish man announced in a polite detached tone. "The portals to Quest Buy will be opened in 15 minutes. Please undo your tents, gather your supplies, and be prepared to form in orderly files of ten."

Well, Marco didn't know if that put them ahead or behind the curve, but neither him nor Lavabo had brought a tent. The more punctual knights however, seemed to be already busying themselves dismantling their own. He and Lavabo just automatically tried the universal strategy of the tardy: mixing themselves with the bustling crowd as soon as possible, to dissimulate their lateness.

The human boy had never before realized just how many knights and squires Mewni had. He counted a few dozens of fully armored nobles, plus each of their far less overdressed, usually much scrawnier, counterparts.

The knights that had apprehended him the day he arrived in Mewni where there, as were the few he met during his short summer stay after the battle with Toffee. He saw that mountain of a woman, Lady Whats-Her-Name… She was literally crushing her own tent flat, with the help of some baby-faced guy who was almost as hefty as she was, albeit significantly more doughy looking.

There were also a lot more people that he didn't recognize. There was some dude who looked even older than Lavabo, but was not in armor for some reason (he couldn't possibly be a squire, could he?). Some goth-looking girl with what looked like an iron mandolin stood besides an even scarier knight full of scars. A wimpy kid carried a pile of books around a stern looking older lady-knight. And… wait, was that a demon all the way over there? ...and… oh… crap!

"Ah, arriving late, I see, _washboy_. Well, normally I'd say it's better late than never, but in your case… I guess I don't see the point of even showing up. This is an event for the squires of _actual_ knights." Such was Sir Stabby's pointed stab at a greeting.

Marco considered rising to the bait with an equally biting reply. However, such audacious impulse was forestalled by two separate concerns. The first was that he actually didn't have that good of a comeback. The second, and most important, was Sir Stabby's demonstrated willingness to escalate verbal sparring to the steel-wielding variety with remarkable short warning.

The young squire looked at Sir Lavabo for support, but the old knight hardly seemed to notice his apprentice's predicament. The Knight of the Wash looked instead to be utterly entranced with the crowd around them, a starry eyed gaze surveying the arrayed pairs of mentors and mentees.

"My own squire..." Marco heard the man whisper, even as he ignored the squire in question and his predicament.

"Oh, I see," Stabby remarked. "My apologies, boy. I misunderstood. For a moment I thought you were operating under the absurd impression that you were a real participant in tonight's event. Now I see that you only seek to play along with the old senile coot's happy delusions. A noble enough act, all things considered..."

"Wait a minute..." begun Marco, but a firm hand gripped him by the shoulder. Lavabo's hand. It held onto him with remarkable strength, even as the knight's affable and distracted expression remained unchanged.

"Yes, boy?" Stabby asked, haughtily impatient.

"Ah, nothing, Sir," Marco stammered. He looked down, clenching his fists.

He understood what Lavabo was doing. There was no point in starting, or even joining, a fight with Sir Stabby, for either of them. If Marco had to appear to be a coward, and his extremely capable knight had to seem like a loon, then so be it. That was what the grip on his shoulder was telling him. But still, it didn't mean Marco had to like it.

Sir Stabby smiled, "Very well then, you take care of gramps over there, boy. Just remember, when the sale starts... don't get in my way."

The peacock-haired knight swiveled on his feet, purposefully giving his back to the Knight of the Wash and his squire. He begun pointedly marching in the opposite direction.

Marco sighed.

"Hey, don't mind him too much, alright?" spoke a female voice from behind his right side.

Marco turned around to see a redhead girl with a pixie cut walking by, carrying a bunch of jousting lances and a blue tarp with both hands in front of her.

She was wearing a blue uniform, which Marco immediately recognized as a berry dye on mid-coarseness hemp fabric, and had some sort of linen training bandages over her arms. Plus she had these sweet spiked shoulder pads (iron, on grape-boiled leather). Nothing fancy, really, those were materials he saw more often on the huge peasant pile rather than the knights and squires fare, but she made it look great!

More importantly, she seemed nice, which after dealing with 'Sir Abrasive' over there, was a welcome change as far as Marco was concerned.

"Hi, I'm Higgs. I'd offer you a handshake, but," she smiled apologetically, and looked meaningfully at the pile of iron and cloth she still held in her arms.

"Ah... oh... right, I can help you with that!" offered Marco, perhaps a bit too slowly.

"Oh, really? Sure, thanks," Higgs smiled, pushing forward half the pile into Marco's arms. "You are Lavabo's new kid, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, um, my name is Marco," he offered.

God, this stuff was heavy! The human boy struggled to even keep himself from toppling over from the weight, and that was after plenty of days of practice carrying stuff back and forth at the Wash. Whomever this girl was, she was stronger than she looked!

"Well, Marco, thanks for the assist. A helpful squire is the best squire, after all," she said brightly, politely trying to suppress a chuckle as Marco stumbled just a little bit under the load. "Now, why don't you help me get this stuff to our line?"

"Yeah, sure," Marco agreed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sir Lavabo giving him a surreptitious wink.

"Cool. That way we can keep talking," reasoned the mewman girl. "Sorry to be in a rush, but Sir Stabby always gets cranky if he is not first in line, and I think Old Guy is almost done with Sir Dashing's tent too..."

"Wait, your knight is Stabby!?" Marco realized, with horror. "...I ...I am not sure he'll want to see me bring his stuff..."

"Oh, he won't see you," Higgs reassured him. "He won't be there until later. He only wants me to reserve him a spot. He'll probably be trying to chat up Lady Whosits or something instead. But, really, don't pay too much attention to that guy, he is always like that when you first meet him, really."

"Oh, so he is not as bad once you get to know him better?" Marco asked, not entirely hopeful about that.

Higgs laughed. "Are you kidding? He is way worse when you get to know him! Believe me..."

Marco chortled at this, taken by surprise by the humorous reply. "Well, my condolences, then."

It was Higgs' time to laugh.

God, this was so nice. Marco had just met the girl and he felt like they had known each other for a while. It was just so easy to joke around with her, she was cool like that. She kinda reminded him of a certain other cool girl back in Echo Creek, except that one he had always had a lot more trouble talking to... no, never mind that for now.

"Well, and how about you, Marco?" she asked. "Is the crazy laundry-knight as crazy as the rumors say?"

"Hey! Don't dis Sir Lavabo, he is actually a pretty great knight," Marco protested, in a somewhat serious tone. But then, he had to admit, rolling his eyes, that, "of course, he is mostly great in... roundabout ways."

She chuckled appreciatively.

They finally reached the blue flagpole on the ground that marked the start of one of the portaling queues. Not his or Lavabo's, of course, but apparently Sir Stabby's and Sir Dashing's, and well, Higgs'.

Most of the knights seemed to be missing from this area of the field, relying instead on their squires to carry their belongings and reserve their places in the various lines. Still, the place was teeming with squires, mostly young mewmans, hurrying up and down carrying bags and weapons and camping supplies. Which made it extra embarrassing when Marco tripped on... something, and was sent rolling to the ground, spilling Stabby's lances and packages all over the place.

"Oh, wow," Higgs remarked. "Marco, if those were too heavy for you, you should have told me sooner!"

She raised her voice to where the boy was sure everyone around them could hear it. There was also something about her concern that seemed somehow less than genuine.

"Here, let me give you a hand... _prince_."

Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she said that last word, and then Marco realized, to his utter confusion, what he had tripped on. The squire girl had stuck her foot in front of him, clearly on purpose.

"Prince?" he asked.

"As in: _'the prince of the princess' deepest desire'_?" Higgs sang and rolled her eyes. Then looking at Marco's shocked expression, and his slowly dawning recollection, she smirked, "So, I was right! You really are that tool, aren't you?"

Star's Song Day! She was quoting from that dumb song: _'and who is the boy in the Earthly attire…?'_. Damn that idiot Ruberiot!

"No. I mean yes… I mean… Look, we didn't know what was going to be in that song, and it really isn't like that," he clarified. Alright, to be honest, it was more accurate to say that he unclarified. He was still more confused than anything else by the girl's sudden change in attitude.

"'We didn't know'?" Higgs asked, raising an eyebrow at him. " _'We'_? As in the goddamn Princess Star and you? Well, excuse me, your highness, if us peons somehow misinterpreted the song's _oh-so-subtle_ message… How about I say what I _think_ I know, so that His Grace might correct my ignorance?"

Where the hell did that come from? Marco was about to ask her what her fucking problem was, when the squire just went ahead with her very public, very loud, explanation.

"The way it seems to me, _prince_ , and to most of us down here, is that the princess was using her formal introduction as a way to announce her complete nobody of a royal boyfriend. Some random idiot that she met during her inter-dimensional _vacation_ and who knew jack shit about Mewni, but might very well have ended up lording above all of us one day," she explained, angrily. "It seems to me, that she was also using that announcement as a distraction from the fact that she and her parents lost the damn Royal Book of Spells. An _'oopsie'_ that, by the way, led to that monster taking over and flying thousands into the sky… But hey, it's all fine now, because the princess learned a lesson about having to do her fucking job or something..."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Marco protested. "Star was the one who beat Toffee! She saved Mewni, and she is trying to help her mom rebuild it!"

"So, you're saying we are all mistaken, then? That it wasn't half her wand in 'King Ludo's' hand? That it wasn't her magic that… that… that did all that!" She clenched her fist as she eyed the boy up and down. Then, coldly, she added, "You must think we are all really stupid!"

Marco had nothing to say to that. It still wasn't fair, Toffee had done that, not Star. But he had to wonder, maybe if they had gone to the Magic High Commission before Song Day…

"But yeah, whatever, I am sure it sucks to be you," Higgs continued. "Because, well, last I heard, the princess is now dating the Lucitor heir. So I guess she sent off her ex to play squire to get him out of the way, maybe because he didn't quite get the hint that she wanted him to just leave. Or is that another misinterpretation on my part?"

"I am not her ex! Star and I never dated!" he protested. He didn't want to think about how the rest of it might not have been entirely wrong, though. "She was… is… my best friend."

"Alright. I stand corrected then, Marco: You are even more of a tool than I suspected!" she chuckled. "So, my _condolences_ to you too, _prince_. My condolences that you didn't end up lucking your way into the goddamn throne just because the princess liked your stupid face. My _condolences_ that you have to settle for being handed in a silver platter the opportunity to someday become a knight, an opportunity that I worked so hard to get. My condolences that you didn't slam into nobility quite as hard as you expected!"

She seemed furious, and the squires around him were glaring daggers at Marco, no doubt also thinking about how him being there cheapened their own achievements. Marco had thought Star was pushing him aside that day when she brought him down to the Wash. But, at the same time, seen from their perspective, he had actually been handed out a job he didn't earn, and is not like he could easily convince them otherwise.

Well, so much for Lavabo's advise to make a good first impression.

He wanted to yell back at the girl, to protest that he didn't deserve this treatment. He knew he was lucky to be Star's friend, but that luck wasn't his fault. He honestly wanted to prove he deserved being a squire and then a knight, but they were not even giving him the chance show that.

What would Lavabo do in this situation? What could _Marco_ do?

He stood up, silently. Slowly, he picked up the things he had dropped, carefully placing them at the front of the line with Higgs' original pile.

Then he just walked away.

Marco could already hear the snickering increase, and he tried his best to ignore them so he wouldn't end up sobbing and embarrassing himself further. He had already made himself look stupid by prioritizing another knight's spot and equipment over his own. Thinking about it now, Higgs was probably testing him on that front as well. He just hoped Lavabo wasn't feeling a similar amount of shame.

"Look on the bright side, Marco," Higgs said. Marco kept walking away from her. "The Squire Blowout is only once a year. After tomorrow, both you and us actual squires won't have to deal with each other for a while. Stay in the Wash if you must. Just stop making us look bad by acting your stupid play-pretend in public, and you'll save me the trouble of constantly showing you up like this, alright?"

Marco wanted to take after Lavabo. He tried to tell himself he didn't need their validation. Honor was not about how others perceived you, but about who you knew, deep inside, you were. As long as he was doing the right thing, and kept providing curse-free clothes to every single resident of Mewni, that alone would be enough. He would be content.

But he wasn't. He felt like garbage. He felt even worse than when he was alone in the Lint Catcher for those grueling six hours. Six hours of self-reflection where Marco reminded himself of every single mistake he had made to everyone, on both Earth and Mewni. But Marco was used to down-talking himself. To be told that he sucked, and that everything he got was undeserved, by a complete stranger...

It stunk. It really, really stunk...

* * *

 **Author's Notes: A promise is a promise, and Chapter 7 is here at exactly the week mark. Say hello to Higgs!**

 **Next up: Quest Buy shenanigans! More squires! Certain redhead continuing to be a pain in the butt! And whatever happened to Star's palm tree outfit? ;)**


	8. Chapter 8: Trouble Squired

The tension inside the cramped tiny tent was thick enough you could have cut it with a sword. Lavabo and his colleague glanced at each other uneasily, even as they knelt towards the center of the small enclosure. They were both ostensibly focused in preparative meditation, but they seemed ill at ease inside the confined space.

Meanwhile, Marco just sat there, hunched over, carefully double-checking the long twin shopping lists that he had hastily scribbled on the way here. He was still reeling from his initial encounter with Higgs, and from his unfortunate introduction to most of his fellow squires.

The last person occupying the reduced space was a blond boy around Marco's own age, who was busy fidgeting with some wooden boxes full of strange metal bits. Every so often he would glance at Marco, but the human boy just avoided his gaze. He focused instead on the item lists, and on a somewhat questionable "customer's map" of Quest Buy he had managed to grab shortly after they all portaled into the store. The Blowout Sale was going to start soon, and Marco had to make sure he was ready.

"Ah, well, thank you again, Lady Jaya, for letting us camp with you and young Nicholas until the start of the night's event," Lavabo said, breaking the ice.

In all honesty, not that Marco was ungrateful or anything, but he actually would have preferred waiting outside on their own somewhere. The last thing he wanted was to be around people right now and, anyways, what was the point of a camping tent indoors? Quest Buy was huge, granted, and the ceilings were stupid-high, but it was still a building in the end, with a roof already over their heads.

Then again, the outside of the tent was probably pretty crowded as well, if the dozens of rowdy conversations that could be heard from inside were any indication. It seemed all the knights and squires had ended up camping close together, so, if Marco went out there, he might run again into Higgs...

"Anything for an old friend, I suppose," replied the lady knight, coldly. "And please, Lavabo, drop the formalities, Jaya is fine enough a name on its own."

An _old_ friend seemed about right, thought Marco, not entirely kindly. The woman looked about the same age as Lavabo, if not older. Yet, she seemed anything but frail. She was clad in the full chainmail armor that Marco had begun to associate with the knights of Mewni, and the relaxed posture with which she carried that weight already betrayed significant physical strength. Yet that itself was nothing compared to the fire in those hawkish eyes, which glanced back at the human from atop her wrinkled elderly face.

"Right, um, Jaya, allow me to introduce my squire, Marco Diaz," announced the Knight of the Wash, clearly struggling to keep the conversation going. "He is an honorable lad, brave of spirit and kind of heart…"

"Is that so?" The other knight glanced at Lavabo uncertainly. She looked up and down at the human boy, sizing him up. "Have you noticed, however, that in the half-hour we have been here, neither of our charges have introduced themselves to one another?"

Marco felt that was his cue to explain himself. Or to at least join the awkward discussion. But for a long painful moment, he was at a loss for what exactly to say. Eventually, his mentor spoke for him.

"Well, I do believe the boy had a less than stellar first meeting with the rest of his fellow squires," Lavabo explained. "But I assure you, he is a dedicated, bright…"

"Right," she interrupted him, raising a hand to shut the other knight up, presumably before he went into another of his famous long rants. "Dedicated. Honorable. Kind. And utterly incapable of dealing with others. Sounds disturbingly familiar, don't you think?"

Lavabo raised an eyebrow, displaying no further emotion.

For his part, Marco felt his own cheeks glow red as the two knights talked about him as if he wasn't even there. He glanced at the blond-haired boy besides him, who had lifted his light blue eyes from the boxes he was playing with, and looked up back at the human, similarly flustered. Marco was about to finally say something, when Jaya once again interrupted.

"Look, it's been a while, and we both know we need to talk." She motioned for Lavabo to follow her outside the tent. "There is the whole embarrassing business with the Avarius child. That and, well, you are a great knight, I ain't sayin you ain't, Eyebrows, but this is your first squire. I am sure you wouldn't mind a few pointers on that as well."

"Ah, of course, Lady Jaya," Lavabo agreed. She cringed at the honorific. "I'll be glad to listen to any such wisdom as you feel your experience has…"

Jaya stopped him again with a gesture from her hand. Then she turned towards her own charge.

"Introduce yourself, squire. That's an order."

"Y...Yes, ma'am!" the boy spoke, flinching a little.

Both grown ups left them alone then, and the next few seconds were spent in one of the most uncomfortable silences Marco had ever experienced. He glanced between the other squire and his double shopping lists, while the other boy's eyes darted between his wooden boxes and Marco.

"Um, hi, my name is Nicholas Archytas, I am Lady Jaya's squire," the other squire broke the ice first, probably because he had been commanded to. "Pleased to meet you…?" He sounded uncertain.

"Yeah, mmmh, hey, pleased to meet you, Nick. I am Marco. Obviously I am Sir Lavabo's squire…"

"... and a friend of princess Star," completed the other boy.

Marco frowned.

Of course. Nick must have seen him trip down back there, and heard him argue with Higgs, or rather, get yelled at by the redhead. At least he hadn't called him _'prince'_ , or said he was Star's ex, but Marco was still annoyed he would bring that up at all.

"Yeah, sure, I suppose," he said sourly.

"Wait, no, I didn't mean…" the other boy stammered. "Look, what Higgs did, what she said, it was uncalled for, alright?"

"Yeah, whatever," Marco shrugged. "It doesn't matter that much."

He tried to affect an air of detached indifference. Frankly, he was half-expecting this kid to also try to play him like the other girl had. Pretend to be friendly, wait for Marco to open up and, _bam_ , trip him head first into the ground! Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Well, he wasn't going to give any of these kids the chance of doing that to him a second time. He would uphold all his duties as a squire, prove himself with his actions, not his words and, at the same time, keep clear of trusting these backstabbing assholes ever again!

"So… these are self-screwing screws, by the way," the other squire said, interrupting his train of thought. Clearly, he was fishing for a different topic to make conversation. He pulled out three of his tiny wooden boxes, which all fit inside his open palms, and was thrusting them towards Marco, so that he could get a better look. "You see, I like making things. It's a hobby I've had ever since I was a kid. Lady Jaya says it's a waste of time for a squire, or a knight, but I just can't help it. Look, aren't they neat?"

The human stared confused at the boxes. They looked like normal wooden cubes, except there was a small tip of a screw protruding from a hole in one of the sides, and a metal latch fixed on the other. It also looked like you could maybe open one of the sides, if you really tried. He waited for an explanation.

"You only need to release the latch, and that sets free the first pre-tensed spring, which contracts and pulls on a chain around the screw, while also freeing the second spring, and that pulls another latch and frees the third…" Nick's voice grew louder and faster the more he spoke, the words carried a note of honest excitement.

He had indeed completely done a one-eighty in his demeanor, but not quite in the way Marco had initially expected. Instead of turning mean, he seemed to be going from quiet and reserved, to an unstoppable chatterbox. The earthling wasn't quite able to keep up with the torrent of words, so he missed most of the explanation, simply nodding until…

"Look, I'll show you!" said the other squire. He put two of the boxes on the ground. Then he leaped towards Marco as if he himself was propelled by an uncoiling spring, positioning himself besides the human boy. "Here, pay attention, I am going to do this only once. You can reset the mechanism, of course, but it takes a while… so… um, here we go…"

He flipped the release with his thumb, and the box begun trembling. From within it, came strange sounds, _clank_ and _sprong_ , mostly. Meanwhile, the screw tip at the end of the box began rapidly rotating and propelling itself forward, and in a second or two it was fully out, pointing up towards Marco's face.

"You see, if you actually press it against something that needs to be screwed before you release the hatch, then you can save a lot of time compared to using a screwdriver. And they are pretty portable too…"

"Woah, that's actually pretty cool," Marco was forced to admit, the surprise taking him out from his detached caution.

It wasn't like he could imagine a good use for those things, given that they probably took longer to reset, let alone build one of those boxes, than simply screwing something normally. But he had to admit it was pretty creative.

"You think so?" Nicholas asked, his eyes filled with proud enthusiasm. "Most people, especially Lady Jaya, just think my inventions are weird. I mean, they aren't anything practical, like, you know, weapons… or magic."

Marco smiled. Of course, in Mewni, magic was considered the practical common sense way of doing things, and mechanical technology, no matter how ingenious, was not generally seen in such light. Then again, that gave Marco an idea.

"Hey, Nick, how about I show you something?" asked Marco with a wink. Then, he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. It was a pretty cheap smartphone model, but by Mewni's standards, Marco was sure it would blow his freaking mind: "Tada!"

"Oh, wow! Is that a magic compact mirror?" the other squire asked. He seemed a bit nervous. "Those things are super rare! ...but, um, I guess you really are friends with the princess. Well, now I feel dumb. Of course you are not really impressed by screws and springs if you are used to carrying around magical gear…"

Marco smiled. "It's not magic, actually. And Star didn't give this to me. This is from Earth. It is like your boxes, a… gadget, I guess you can call them both, just made of many more smaller pieces…"

"Wait, so, there is no magic in it?" Nick looked at Marco wide-eyed. "You swear?"

"Well, not the kind of magic you find in Mewni, or Quest Buy, at least," Marco grinned. "But there is always the magic that is Flappy Bird…"

* * *

Jaya and Lavabo were out for well over an hour, while Marco proceeded to destroy Nick at every game his phone had. This must be what Tom felt like whenever the two of them hung out! Marco had to admit it felt good, and the other boy was a pretty good sport about it. Normally, he would have worried about his battery but, unlike Butterfly Castle and Lavabo's estate, Quest Buy had power outlets!

"Well, glad to see you two are capable of interacting with each other," chuckled Lady Jaya as she and the other knight came back into the tent. "Still, enough is enough, there are other squires to meet before the competition. Nicholas… do I make myself sufficiently clear?"

"Of course, ma'am," the blond boy nodded. "Marco, want to head out and meet the others?"

The human's smile fell down at that question. He was happy to have made a friend today, but, well, after what had happened earlier in the day, he was not looking forward to running into any of the other squires. Least of all Higgs.

"Um, eh, you go ahead, ok? I… I still have to recheck the list of things we need. See you at the Blowout?" he offered.

Nicholas seemed disappointed by this, but nodded in understanding. His knight glanced pointedly at the tent's door, and the would-be-inventor headed out through it.

Marco was allowed only a few minutes of silence to stare at his lists, however, until the lady knight addressed him directly for the first time.

"Squire, your knight described you to me as brave," she pointed out. "You shame him by staying in here like a coward."

Marco looked up and blinked in shock. Well, the old woman definitely wasn't one for mincing her words. But still, she was mistaken, he was not a coward. That wasn't the reason at all. Or, well, not entirely.

"Bravery has nothing to do with it, uh… ma'am," Marco retorted, following Nick's lead on how he addressed her, but looking directly at the knight's piercing black eyes. "Look, they don't like me. They have no reason to like me. It's not like they are wrong about Star giving me this job…"

"Did she, now?" Jaya interrupted him. "Last I heard, the crown princess didn't determine who became a squire of the Order of the Wash. The trial of the Lint Catcher did. Lavabo, has this somehow changed?"

"Not since the reign of Skywynne, Queen of Hours. Nor it shall, for generations of knights, and generations of queens, to come," swore the old knight solemnly.

"That's what I thought," she continued, rolling her eyes. "Besides, Nicholas certainly doesn't dislike you, boy. If anything, you started up unfairly disliking _him_. But he overcame that and managed to get you to regard him as what he should be to you, a fellow in arms and a potential friend."

Well, when you put it that way…

"That's not the same," countered Marco. "I was just guarded. Some of them actually _hate_ me!"

"Fine, so they hate you," Jaya shrugged. "That's the way the world is. Nobody is obligated to like you from the start. You won't be the first or the last squire to be unfairly singled out due to how they ended up here. What are you going to do about it?"

She wasn't suggesting that he… no, no way, "I mean, I'm not going to get into an unnecessary fight with the other squires. That's not going to make them hate me any less…"

"Perhaps," she admitted, "But it would make them respect you."

Lavabo looked like he wanted to start saying something, but Jaya quieted him with a knowing glance, and he simply nodded.

Well, too bad for her, because Marco knew exactly what his knight was going to say. "I don't care if they respect me or not. I will do my duty as a squire, and eventually as a knight, and I'll do it well. Then I can respect myself. Honor is not about how others see you, it's about how you see yourself…"

"And pray tell, boy, how do you see yourself?" she interjected. "If you have your own respect, then why do you look so miserable? Is this the best your honor can manage? Do you honestly think it is going to get better if you just leave things the way they are? Or do you plan to spend the rest of your life apart of your fellow squires, and eventually your fellow knights?"

"Well, I, I mean, I am planning to return to Earth so…"

"So? A year alone, then? In the Wash, like Old Goat over here?" she motioned to Lavabo. "You don't seem the type."

Marco looked at his mentor, who seemed to shuffle nervously.

"Look, Lavabo is an excellent knight, one of the best, there is no doubt about that," she added, solemnly. "But he has a reputation for not working well with others. No one really trusts Lavabo, because he never made an attempt to make himself known, and he has never trusted anyone in return. Even during his days as a squire, and then as a young knight, he was always that weird guy who spent all his time in the Wash. Back then, I tried to get him to come out of his shell, but he always chose the Wash over anyone else, and he always will. It… took me awhile to come to that conclusion…"

Marco's jaw literally dropped as he put two and two together. Old _friends_ indeed! It was so obvious when you thought about it. This stern old lady had to have been Lavabo's ex-girlfriend!

"Marco Diaz," his own knight interjected. "I do not regret the path my life took…"

"Of course you don't," grumbled Jaya with a sigh and a bitter laugh.

"... but I cannot in good conscience suggest it to you," Lavabo continued. "It is possible to balance the exigencies of duty with a healthy relationship with your peers. Lady Jaya here is an excellent example!"

"A _passable_ example," she corrected him. "At any rate, squire: there is dedication to your work, and then there is using that dedication as an excuse to avoid everything else. Like it or not, those children who now shun you are your comrades for the foreseeable future. There will be times of crisis outside the Wash that require all of you to work together. Your very duty to the kingdom may one day depend on being able to trust them with your life… would your honor allow you to fail then because you couldn't face them now as children?"

"Ok, fine," admitted Marco. "But what should I do? They hate me, remember? I don't think fighting back is going to make them like me, trust me, or even respect me. How can I ever change _that_?"

"That's up to you to figure out," she replied with a shrug. "I am certainly not advising you to run headfirst into a fight. A violent temper gets you no more respect than a timid one. But so long as we agree there is something worth changing, then I can safely say it is not something you'll get done from inside here. Do I make myself sufficiently clear, squire?"

Marco smiled, and for a moment the older woman was smiling back at him. "Yes, ma'am!"

As he hurried out of the tent, she added, "I do have a suggestion, Marco, and that's to _show_ them a person worth respecting."

* * *

As soon as Marco left the tent, his eyes were immediately assaulted by Quest Buy's bizarre lighting structure. The impossibly high ceiling seemed to reflect back down beams of green and yellow light projected upwards from innumerable unseen sources hidden inside the literal labyrinth of stonewall shelves. This same light filtered back down through layered clouds of smoke rising up from a few dozen bonfires. Tightly clumped around the flames, was the encampment of squires and knights waiting for the midnight sale to start.

The fog-filtered unnatural light made the sea of multicolored tents look positively phantasmal. A look that wasn't at all helped by the rows of medieval weaponry stocked into nearby shelves, or by the crackling static of a barely functional PA system.

Every so often, the pervading electrical noise was cut by one of Quest Buy's sloths reminding them all, in an utterly bored monotone, that any knight or squire caught outside the starting area before the sale started would be "forcibly ejected from the premises". Which didn't sound that bad, except for the pre-recorded message which followed:

"Quest Buy would like to remind you that as the sole owner of the whole surrounding intra-dimensional real estate, ejection from the premises might result in retroactive existential failure for those affected. Quest Buy, its employees, and its subsidiaries are in no way responsible for any damages or inconvenience this might cause."

God, he hated Quest Buy so much!

It took Marco a while to adjust to the fog and the weird lightning, and when he finally did, he found himself staring directly at a surreal scene: two mewmans, their backs turned towards the human boy, seemed to be facing off against some sort of demon.

The creature's face was all white bone, a goat skull surrounded by shivering red flames. It was somehow joined by a thick neck to a large gargoyle-like body, which seemed to still have its flesh and crimson red fuzzy skin fully attached. On the back of the broad inhuman torso, were a pair of bat-like wings, probably about equivalent in their outstretched span to Marco's own arms. Right now, however, they clung tightly to the rest of the creature's body.

Marco would have run to help his fellow squires against the creature, had he not noticed the look in the fiend's face. The demon had no eyes per se, but rather two tiny yellow flames floating in the middle of two empty eye sockets. Yet those strange fire pupils, flickering weakly inside empty dark holes, somehow managed to look pleading, rather than menacing. It's whole body language also gave the impression that it was trying, quite futilely, to make itself small and invisible.

Marco remembered then that he had seen the demon before. It had been among the squires and knights back in Mewni, listening to Manfred's instructions. It was a hard image to forget, actually, even if he had been immediately distracted from it by Sir Stabby's appearance.

He also noticed that the monster was wearing the standard linen pseudo-uniform he had seen in more than half the assembled squires before. As were the two other guys standing in front of him, with their backs facing Marco.

"So, do you, like, eat babies and stuff?" asked the tallest of the two in a deep dull voice. He was the huge squire that had been assisting Lady Whosits before, the one with the baby face and the body of a gorilla. "O.G., do you think she eats babies?"

"I don't know, Baby Man," replied the huge squire's companion. He was this tiny old guy, who stroked his long white beard as he spoke. "Maybe you should be careful," he added, sarcastically.

"Ha ha. I don't think so," commented the first one. "I am not an actual baby. Remember? They call me that 'cause me face."

"Yes, I am aware," the smaller squire said dryly. "So, demon, _do_ you eat babies?"

"N...no, of course not…" the demon struggled to respond in a surprisingly soft, very clearly feminine, voice. "I mean, some demons do, I guess. But not most of us. It's not a common trait. And well, me… I am…" she whispered the last word to where Marco, further away from the group, couldn't quite make it out.

"Ugh. Buh...gan? What's that?" asked the large squire.

"It means she doesn't eat meat," explained the old guy.

"But, O.G., babies are meat, and demons are like… like monsters, no? I thought monsters ate babies!" the other protested, clearly exhausting his full faculties of deduction in one go.

"Yes, I have heard the same," admitted his companion. "So… uh… Tamara, was it? Are you a monster?"

"My name is Timore…" she pointed out, still clearly uncomfortable with the attention, and with the question. "And… well… mmm… the other thing… it's kind of a complicated question… so…"

"Because, Tamara," said the old guy, clearly not paying attention to her protests. "I don't think monsters can be squires of Mewni. Monsters are monsters. They don't belong in the kingdom. They are evil, dumb, stinking brutes… no offense, Baby Man."

"Uh?" exclaimed the alluded squire. The fact that the apology was the insult clearly flew well over his head.

"Then I am not a monster!" exclaimed Timore. Then, timidly, she added "... I mean, I _am_ a squire, or… um… an exchange squire… you know?"

"Hey, O.G., I heard demons are tougher than mewmans!" pointed out the bigger squire, who had apparently grown bored with the existing line of inquiry.

"I wouldn't doubt it, with such a _bulky_ body like that," remarked the old guy, making a face like he was smelling something bad. "So, are you?"

"I… uh… I'm not sure…" replied Timore, evasively.

"I suggest we test it, then," he replied, coldly. "Baby Man?" .

"Yeah, let's try it out!" exclaimed his larger companion, gleefully pulling a huge iron mace from a nearby shelf.

Timore's flame-eyes crackled in horror, as her whole body flinched away from the other two. "I… um… ah…"

"Come on, it probably won't even hurt that much for you, right?" pointed out the older squire.

"Ah… mmm… m-maybe… but, still… I..." she managed to stammer out.

"I am not hearing a _'no'_. Baby Man..."

"... STOP!" shouted Marco, jumping between the demon girl and the two mewmans, arms raised at the ready, poised for combat. "What the hell is wrong with you guys!?"

"Uh..."

"Eh, what's it to you?" asked the more eloquent of the two, without waiting for his friend to expand his shocked grunt into a full sentence. "Hey, wait a moment, aren't you the kid who tripped all over the place trying to do Higgs' work? The guy who only got a squire job because his ex is the princess or something?"

Marco blushed. He considered pointing out once more that Star was not his ex. But, well, that wasn't the point. "At least I am not the one trying to beat up my fellow squires!"

"She's not mewman, doesn't count," protested the older squire. "Besides, she is a _demon_ , it's not like she is actually going to get hurt from it."

Marco had to admit that might not be a completely invalid point. The first time he had met Tom, he had cut off his hand with a karate chop, and the demon prince had simply attached it right back.

"We are just having fun," the smaller squire continued.

 _That_ , however, was utter bullcrap. "Doesn't look to me like she is having fun. So, well… I suggest you two go have fun on your own, elsewhere."

The old guy raised an eyebrow, and his companion seemed to stare down at his mace, thinking. Marco put his fiercest face forward and tensed for battle. He had fought Toffee, and the Lint Catcher Monster. He had led a princess revolution, and spent sixteen years hunting down Hekapoo. If this pair of bullies thought they could intimidate him, they had a big surprise coming.

"Whatever," the old guy shrugged. "We'll go. See you at the blowout. But, fair warning, you are not making any friends by doing this… _prince_."

Well, Marco had to disagree with that one. After making sure those two were indeed walking away, he turned back towards Timore and extended out a hand.

"Hi, my name is Marco, I am Lavabo's squire, are you ok?"

"I… um… yeah, I am." She hesitated, then responded to the gesture by wrapping a huge red hand around his. "My name is Timore. You… you do know I am a demon, right?"

"Um, yeah, that's kind of obvious. So?" Marco shrugged.

"Well, I think most people tend to react to me… ah…"

"Like those two?" he asked.

"... at best." she admitted, sullenly.

"Well," Marco rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "Honestly, the first time I met a demon I overreacted too. Now we are good friends… I think." He realized something then. "Actually, I thought mewmans were more used to demons than that. I mean, it seems like Tom is able to walk around Butterfly castle without much trouble."

"Tom?" she asked surprised. "You know Prince Thomas Lucitor!?"

"... yeah." Marco said slowly. Boy, he wasn't helping his case about being here because of the people he knew. Was he?

"You're friends with Prince Thomas. I'm sorry, but… that's so warm! The warmest thing I have ever heard!" Timore said excitedly. The flames around her skull were now roaring to reflect her enthusiasm.

"Uh, yeah. We haven't hung out in awhile, but now that I'm in Mewni hopefully that will change soon." Marco tried thinking of a way to change the subject. "So… Timore, was it? I didn't know there were other exchange squires besides me. I sort of assumed I created the concept just last week."

"Ah… yes. It is a very common practice, actually. The kingdoms of Mewni show their good will towards each other by offering one of their own to serve somewhere else for an entire year... so that we can all work together and learn each other's culture..."

"That's pretty neat actually." Marco said. In a way, he had already participated in this by showing Nick his smartphone.

"...This year is a bit different though…" Timore said, in a more quiet tone. "It seems we are the only squires to come from other kingdoms this time. I have yet to see a single Johansen, waterfolk, or spider-bite among our ranks."

Huh, that did seem strange. River did mention how Star and her mother were traveling to other kingdoms to literally beg for help in fixing Mewni. Perhaps the yearly squire in addition to all that support would be asking too much?

"To be honest… and… not that I don't appreciate the opportunity to represent my domain, but…" The demon hesitated. "I don't really compare to the fiends they have sent the years before… don't tell anyone, but I'm actually, well..." her voice dropped to a whisper "...very timid."

"Um… your secret is safe with me," Marco said, half sarcastically. Then, he thought of something, "Wait, if the squire exchanges are a common tradition, then how come those guys were being such jerks to you?"

"Well, you see, um, exchanges involve at most one or two squires from each kingdom to each other in any given year, and don't happen _every_ year between every two kingdoms. Chances are, your knights..." she stopped herself. She glanced at Marco, unsure for a moment. "Sorry, I… you are not mewman either, right? Chances are, mewman knights have interacted with demons before, but not so their squires… Also, full disclosure, I think it's fair to say we don't always treat their exchange squires all that great down there either…"

Marco nodded. "Regardless, I hope those two didn't give you a bad first impression. There are some nice people here too. You just… have to look for them."

"It's not a big deal, really…" Timore said. "My father warned me that I would have trouble fitting in here, but the potential for conflict would do me good. He's hoping I become more… ruthless by the end of this. He said if I don't have at least a hundred kills by next year, I'll be dead to him…"

Marco's eyes widened. "Holy crap! That's a little intense, don't you think?"

"Well… I'm already well over one hundred, so I think I'll be fine." Timore said with a tinge of pride. "Oh! Speaking of which, you have a little dirt on you. Allow me."

"Wait. What?" How exactly did those statements transition into one another?

Without warning, Timore put her hand inside her front pocket and pulled out a white cloth. She grabbed Marco by the arm with freakish demon strength and began rubbing it on his face.

Conditioned by TV and movies since a young age, Marco instinctively held his breath, assuming the worst. The wetness of the cloth didn't help his imagination either. After a few seconds, though, he realized that the familiar sensation was not from a fabric laced with chloroform, but just a simple disinfectant wipe.

"There..." Timore said, letting go of Marco's arm and placing the wipe back in her pocket.. "They say that these kill 99.9% of germs… Such frightening accuracy, wouldn't you agree?"

The glowing ember inside the left socket of her fiery goat-like skull seemed to flicker. It took Marco about a second to realize that she was winking at him.

 _'_ _Kill'_...

Marco snorted. Did she really think her father would accept such a technicality?

Before Marco could point out the flaws in Timore's logic, the static of the PA system began filling the huge mall, followed by the depressed sighs of a sloth.

"Attention Quest Buy shoppers. The Squire Blowout Sale is about to begin. All squires must meet their knight and head towards the starting line, or whatever. You have ten minutes."

"Oh dear. I forgot that Quest Buy is on a different time zone than Mewni. It's already close to midnight here. We better get going..." Timore said.

Marco checked his phone, which read 2:48 p.m. The knights and squires had been here for only a few hours, so in Mewni the sun was still shining. While Marco felt a little dumb for not thinking about the differences in time, in his defense, the lack of windows in Quest Buy made it hard to tell what time it was, assuming 'outside' was even a concept in this dimension.

"I'll meet you by the starting line…" Timore said. "I wish you luck, Marco."

Oh crap, he almost forgot! "Wait, Timore! I need to ask you a favor."

Timore stopped walking and turned towards him. "A favor?"

Marco shuffled nervously. "Listen, that stuff about Tom and I being friends. Do you think you can keep that stuff to yourself?"

Timore's expression changed to a look of disappointment. It was a little hard to tell with her face being a skull and all, but the subtle movements of her floating pupils told Marco everything. "Is it… because of Prince Thomas being a demon?"

"What!? No, that's not it." Marco didn't want to give her the wrong idea. "It's just, everyone thinks I'm here just because I was lucky enough to be friends with royalty. If they find out I'm also friends with Tom, in addition to Star, that'll just make their opinion of me worse."

"I… see…" Timore said, choosing her next words carefully. "Are you really so ashamed to be associated with them that you'd hide your friendship…?"

"It's not like that. I'm not ashamed. I'm, well, I'm just trying to make things less difficult for me here," Marco said.

"Being a demon in the Butterfly Kingdom is difficult..." Timore said. "But… I don't try to deny that part of myself. The Underworld is my home, and I'm here to represent it to the best of my abilities."

Well, that wasn't fair, there was really nothing Marco could reasonably answer after that and not sound like a friend-denying coward. Was there?.

"I understand where you are coming from…" she continued, "but you shouldn't view your friendship that way. Instead of thinking of it as an undeserved advantage over others, you should think of it as a badge of honor."

A badge of honor? How? It wasn't like being friends with Star and Tom was something he had somehow earned, it had, well, it had just sort of happened.

"Think about it. Prince Tom and Princess Star could be friends with anyone. Literally everyone in Mewni would want to be close friends with royalty… well, almost everyone." Something in the way Timore said that part, made Marco think she had heard Higgs' speech from earlier. "But they chose to be friends with you, right? Don't you think they have a reason…? I… I mean, I think I've seen at least one possible reason just now, actually, back there, when you stood up for me..."

"Well, Star sort of got assigned to me and my family, back when she did her own exchange stay on Earth," Marco admitted.

"That doesn't force her to like you as a friend, Marco, that was still her decision…" she pointed out.

Of course, she was right, Star and Marco weren't besties because she had happened to live with him for a year. Sure, that's what led to the two of them interacting in the beginning, but it's what happened after that that made them go from forced housemates to besties. It was fighting Ludo's monsters together, and helping each other, and going on adventures. It was discovering all the things he admired in Star and, he… hoped, all the good qualities she, as his _best_ friend, saw in him.

"Also, tell me, did Prince Tom also get _'assigned'_ to you?" Timore pressed on. "How did you two meet?"

"Um, I got between him and Star and... cut off his hand," Marco finished in a self-conscious whisper.

Timore looked at him incredulously. "You became friends after _that_?"

"Oh, no. Honestly, we hated each other for months. He tried to kill me, twice!" In retrospect, it was almost funny to think about it. Marco smiled. "Eventually, though, we found out that we like the same teen pop band, and became good friends soon after."

"Uh… that's... good…" the demon girl struggled to match Marco's story to the point she was trying to make.

Marco chuckled.

"No, you're right, though. Star and Tom didn't become my friends because they had to or because I was some big deal back on Earth. And, well, I wasn't trying to become friends with them because they were royalty. Despite what everyone is saying, I was never aiming to be a prince. I'm just… Marco Diaz. And I know Star and Tom _are_ a big deal but, to me, they're just my friends. I don't know if there truly is anything in particular about me that makes me _'deserving'_ of their friendship, or anything like that," Marco shrugged. "But they _are_ my best friends, and I am not going to go around denying that fact."

"Glad to hear, Marco," Timore cheered, "and I… and I… and I also won't be ashamed of calling you my friend!"

Marco blinked at her, confused. Wait, was it shameful for her to have _him_ as a friend? Was his situation with the other squires really so bad that…

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed a crackling sound coming from the mane of flames around Timore's skull. It took the boy a few seconds to realize it was a suppressed chuckle.

"Timore, you are pretty cool, you know?" he noted.

"W… what!? Why? Did I do something wrong?" she asked, shocked.

"Oh, ah, sorry, I guess I meant you are pretty warm," Marco corrected himself.

Timore's eyes flickered in recognition of the small cultural misunderstanding. She begun to say something, but then immediately shut up. Her eye-flames seemed to glance towards something behind Marco himself.

He turned around, and saw a tall dark-haired knight with a short thin pointed black beard. He was dressed in full gray armor, helmet in hand, and stomping furiously towards them. He glared angrily at Timore.

"There you are, squire," he spat. "The blowout is about to start. We and that idiot you are chatting with are the only ones not yet at the starting line. Am I the only one who sees a problem with that?"

"N… No, Sir Thorncloak," Timore replied, standing to attention.

"Good. Now, you don't want me to regret having agreed to take in the Underworld's exchange squire, do you?"

Without waiting for a reply, and without addressing Marco, the knight turned around and begun hurriedly walking back the way he came.

"N… No, Sir Thorncloak," Timore replied, to the empty air, before deciding to start jogging after the tall thin man. "Sorry, Marco..."

The Squire of the Wash stood there surprised for about a single second, before he remembered that his own knight was probably waiting for him as well.

He ran after the two of them, soon finding himself viewing a really strange scene: a row of shopping carts, each with a huge toy wooden wheeled horse in front. Atop the horses were each of the knights, including Lavabo, all the way on the far end. Behind the carts, were their corresponding squires, ready to push cart, horse, and knight, one and all, at a moment's notice. All of them in their marks and ready, except for Marco himself.

There was a short beep and a dull bored voice filled the huge room through the PA system. "Attention, Quest Buy shoppers, the ten thousandth annual Squire Blowout is starting in… now minutes"

What? Oh, crap!

Marco raced towards Lavabo's cart and gripped the handles just as every other cart began speeding off away from them.

"Ah, Marco Diaz, just in time, after all," Lavabo nodded at him.

"Sorry, Sir," he apologized, as he pushed with all his might. "Didn't mean to be late."

"And you weren't. Nor were you early. You were, indeed, just in time," the old knight remarked. "Did you manage to make some friends after all?"

"Look, Sir Lavabo, I don't see how now is the time to talk about something like that…"

Marco pushed, and something gave out. The entire cart seemed to jerk and shudder, and there was a horrible scratching sound. The human boy stopped and looked at the floor. Two wooden wheels had fell off of the toy horse in front of the shopping cart, and now the wooden stumps were dragging against the floor, the friction causing the cart to slow down dramatically and shake uncontrollably.

The human looked up to see a grinning old guy, one of the two squires who had been tormenting Timore before, holding up a wrench triumphantly, proud of his sabotage. He raced ahead of Marco and Lavabo, pushing his surprisingly handsome knight. Besides him, the huge baby-faced squire laughed raucously as he effortlessly pushed Lady Whosits and her cart. Marco could also see Higgs, grinning victoriously at him, even as she and Stabby raced past her two compatriots, leaving him far behind.

Then, Marco saw that another of the carts had stopped ahead of him but behind the others. It was Jaya's and Nicholas' cart. The blond boy looked back at him, winked, and threw two small wooden cubes in Marco's general direction. Without further delay, he then resumed pushing his own knight ahead.

Marco looked down at the cubes, and suddenly he understood.

He raced around the cart, collecting the two fallen wheels and Nick's two boxes. One by one, he pushed the wheels between the horse's legs and the self-screwing portable mechanism, and released the automatic latch. Within thirty seconds, his ride was ready to go again. Thanks to Nick's special screws, they were still in the race!

"So, Marco Diaz," Lavabo repeated. "Did you manage to make some friends after all?"

"Yes, I did, Sir."

* * *

 **Author's Notes: We are still alive, and still writing (slowly)! Hope you all liked the new faces and Marco not actually getting screwed (ha!) for a change.**

 **Next up: The end to the Squire Bash arc! Marco vs Higgs. Place your bets now!**


	9. Chapter 9: Racing up to the Challenge

**Author's Note: This chapter is the longest one to date. There's a little bit more from this arc in Chapter 10, but this chapter in particular covers the entire Quest Buy Race. Enjoy:)**

* * *

Marco pushed the cart forward as fast as he could. Thanks to Nicholas' intervention, he wasn't too far behind of the others. The wheels rolled smoothly beneath him, making it easy to move the weight of Lavabo and the still empty cart. Soon, he was as far from the second to last squire, as he himself was from the first place.

Said first place, unfortunately, was Higgs.

Of all the squires, she was perhaps the one Marco least wanted to see in the lead.

His second least favorite pick, fortunately, was just right ahead of him: the huge squire seemingly nicknamed Baby Man. The towering brute could likely put more raw power behind pushing his cart than most others, negating the disadvantage of having to haul his equally imposing lady knight. Perhaps, as their carts grew fuller and the load heavier, his brawn would become a significant asset later in the race. However, for now, despite his raw strength, he simply wasn't as fast of a runner as the others.

Within moments, Marco was side by side with the baby-faced giant.

"Ah, Lady Whosits, greetings!" spoke Lavabo cheerfully, as his wooden horse drew closer to the knight leading Baby Man's cart.

"Oh, hey, Sir Lavabo, how goes stuff down in the Wash?" she asked.

The old knight got no chance to reply, as, that very moment, Baby Man slammed his cart on Marco's, pushing the squire of the Wash and his knight against the closest shelf.

The shelf in question seemed to consist of rows upon rows of halberds on display, with the business end facing towards the front. Marco managed to react only in the last second, regaining control of the shopping cart right before either the metal basket, or his own flesh, got caught up by the sharp axe blades or piercing spear points of the weapons. Clearly, whatever dimension Quest Buy was in, it wasn't one in which the term 'Personal Injury Lawsuit' was known. Ugh! He _really_ hated this place!

"Booya!" cheered Lady Whosits excitedly. "Bite our dust laundrymen!… No offense, Sir Lavabo!"

"None taken," the old man replied goodnaturedly.

Marco begged to differ.

He turned his anger at the brute of a squire into resolve and pushed himself and Lavabo forward again, once more gaining on the other two. Soon they were back to being side to side. The bigger squire tried once more to ram their cart with his own. But Marco, expecting that same trick, made sure to leave enough of a buffer between them. Thus, he was able to react in time, avoiding the impact and using the opportunity to get ahead of them for once.

With Baby Man in hot pursuit, Marco raced towards the first real milestone of the competition, the chestplate shelves of aisle 8.9. The other squires were all already taking off from there, with Timore and Old Guy picking up their own pieces of armor and dropping them into their respective carts just ahead of him and Lavabo. Fortunately for Marco, there was still one chestplate left.

He stopped the cart for only a second, and reached to grab it, quickly turning to put it inside his own cart before the larger squire could catch up.

However, as soon as Marco turned around, he found himself face to face with Baby Man's nastiest smile to date. He barely registered the huge ball of iron descending towards his own skull, as the other squire swung his mace towards him.

The mace hit flesh and bounced back, vibrating wildly, as if it had impacted against a huge steel shield. This was because the flesh it hit, thankfully, wasn't Marco's, but the side of a broad muscular fur-covered red arm.

"Hey Marco," spoke Timore, a happy glint in her eye-embers. "Guess we are even now, right? Sorta?"

She had stopped Baby Man's mace with her lower arm, and the attacking squire had literally been thrown back into the ground from the impact. Marco's assailant now sat sprawled on the floor, unharmed, but looking confused at the meek demon who had bested him without even trying. The weapon lay uselessly on the blue linoleum, too far out of his reach.

Wow. "Even? Um, I think I actually owe _you_ one now," Marco reasoned. "Since clearly you were not in any trouble before…" After all, she almost certainly could have handled that mace just as well back then.

"N… no, of course I was…" she replied nervously. "I mean, that situation I was trapped in was… _awkward_ " she whispered.

Marco smiled at that.

"Anyways, gotta go now," Timore said, glancing at her silent knight. Sir Thorncloak sat on their cart's wooden horse with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, clearly disapproving of the unnecessary delay.

"We need some things beside the standard list," she added, embarrassed, "... you know, um… demon things... so… well… um, good luck out there, Marco!"

She raced back to her cart and took off, in a different direction than the one Higgs, Old Guy, and the rest of the squires ahead of them were taking. Meanwhile, Baby Man had begun to stand up, so Marco took the opportunity to grab Lavabo, the chestplate, and his own cart, and get as much distance between himself and the mace-wielding squire as he possibly could. Behind him, he heard Lady Whosits yelling something at her squire. Marco wasn't sure if she was berating him about trying to bash the skull of a fellow squire, or about having missed.

"Oh ho! What a fortunate coincidence the other exchange squire got in the way of that attack. Wouldn't you agree, Marco Diaz?" Lavabo said, jovially remarking on the event as if he hadn't actually been involved. It had been his attitude since the beginning of the race. Like a spectator commenting from the the safety of bleachers.

"Um… didn't you hear her? Her saving our asses was very much intentional. Her name is Timore and she's really nice."

Lavabo turned around to face his squire. "That demon? You befriended her as well?"

Marco nodded, trying his best to pay attention to his knight while also staying focused on the course they were taking. It kind of sucked that these shopping carts were designed to have most of the squire's vision obscured by their own knight. Perhaps it was an intentional test, and the squires were supposed to memorize the race route by heart, to where the race could be done without sight, but believing that would be giving the Quest Buy engineers way too much credit.

The laundry knight whispered something to himself. The only part Marco could make out was the word 'astounding.'

"Sir Lavabo?"

"Listen. Marco Diaz. I want you to forget about the 'weapons and armor' list I gave you this morning. For this race, we will be focusing exclusively on the laundry items."

"What!?" Marco exclaimed. "Why? The race literally just started." Sure, they may have had a late start, but thanks to Nick and Timore, they recovered pretty quickly. Marco could once again see the other squires ahead of them.

"I understand that. But, keep in mind, our main service to the kingdom is providing fresh clothes to its subjects. This is a duty we alone bear, and thus, we cannot afford to disregard it. Weapons and armor can be purchased anywhere inside the Butterfly Kingdom, but the supplies that are relevant only to the both of us…"

Marco realized what Lavabo was trying to say. Among the countless flyers he had received in Lavabo's mailbox this past week, none of them advertised places that specialized in laundry supplies. No such places existed in the Butterfly Kingdom. Who would need such things if two random guys in the castle already did your laundry for you?

"Alright, so I'll prioritize the 'laundry' list," Marco said. "But still, that doesn't mean we shouldn't go after the other stuff as well. We'll need them to fight whatever the Wash throws at us, like the Lint Monster." Not to mention things _outside_ the Wash, like the Elmbeast.

"We will make do with what we have in the Wash," Lavabo said. "Marco Diaz, you have made tremendous progress today. Despite being insulted and singled-out by your fellow squires, you persevered and made two new friends in no time at all, to the point that they would assist and protect you in this competition without a second thought. Such camaraderie between people who have just met is admirable. In a way, you've made more progress today than I have in my entire career as a servant of Mewni."

While Lavabo didn't outright say it, Marco knew he was talking about himself and Jaya to some extent.

"With that said, the odds are still stacked against you. Many more squires would rather see you fail and sabotage your chances here. We need to consider that. So please, only focus on the one list, especially since following said list will give you less chances of running into those who antagonize you. When we get back, we'll see how much we have left in the Wash's budget and take a trip to the local armory."

In a way, Marco was flattered. Not only was his knight looking out for him, but he was also acknowledging how difficult today had been for the boy, and was impressed he was able to overcome it.

But, with no offense to Lavabo, making a few friends wouldn't be enough for Marco to consider today a victory. As Timore implied, that sort of stuff came naturally to him. The real challenge had just begun, and Marco wasn't gonna back down from it so soon.

"I appreciate the concern, Sir Lavabo, and I would hate to put our productivity in the Wash at risk due to my own ambitions," Marco began. "But, this morning, you gave those two lists to me with the expectation that I had what it takes to get every item on them."

Lavabo blinked.

"It's like you said in our first day together, the Wash is an unrelenting place, and coddling me won't help anyone in the end. The difference in sharpness in our blades could mean the difference between life and death. Even if no one thinks it, the kingdom needs us. Half-assing this race for the sake of my comfort-level would betray our duty to the people."

And, not only that, but this race was Marco's only chance to prove himself to the other squires. He'd be stuck in the Wash most of the time, but before there was another crisis on the level of Ludo's invasion, where Marco would have to work with and entrust his life to them, he needed to gain their respect first.

It was now or never. Marco would get _everything_ on both lists, without fail. He wouldn't let a single item escape his grasp!

Lavabo smiled warmly. "I see. I'm sorry if I insulted you, Marco Diaz. This is the second time I have underestimated you, but I shall not make the same mistake a third time!"

Swelling with pride at his mentor's praise, the young squire further picked up the pace. While racing towards the remaining squires, his mind started planning the optimal route that would let them complete both lists.

First, they needed a young foal and, after that, some shoe glue. The aisles for those two were right next to each other and, Quest Buy being Quest Buy, Marco wasn't sure he wanted to know why exactly that was the case. After the glue, there were: leather polish, three kinds of magical detergent, a bow and arrow, a bucket of holding, and then, dragon repellent, followed by a dozen more Wash items, plus a few more weapons and wilderness supplies.

He arrived at the racks of tiny horses just after Nick and Old Guy. The goth girl with the iron mandolin, whom Marco had briefly seen back before they all portaled into Quest Buy, was already racing ahead, carrying a black foal in the basket of her shopping cart. Higgs was nowhere in sight, presumably further ahead from the pack.

Fortunately for Marco, there were still plenty of horses to pick from, and he was able to grab what he considered to be a promising baby colt. It was chestnut coated, and looked at the boy with mild apprehension, but nonetheless it stood still and let itself be deposited inside the squire's cart without issue.

After that, it was time for a short detour, as Marco dived into an aisle to the left of the main path, hoping that he would still be able to catch up to the other squires. He grabbed the glue without ever slowing down. The leather polish was equally easy to acquire.

The first bottle of detergent, however, was also the first challenge. It was a bright golden powder labeled _'Phoenix Soap Flakes'_ , and was inconveniently placed atop a set of shelves that was a full four times taller than Marco. Not letting that stop him, the boy grabbed a normal detergent pack from the bottommost row and threw it at the hard-to-reach item.

Five golden boxes of _'Phoenix Soap Flakes'_ tumbled down. Marco picked them up as fast as he could, shoving them into the shopping cart, before racing out of that aisle and into the next. Without breaking his stride, he read the blurb under the product's name: _'Burns through the stains. Leaves your clothes brand new.'_

"Ah, yes, it's all true," Lavabo commented cheerfully. "Of course, it burns the fabric too, but it all gets magically rebuilt before the start of the rinse cycle. Brand new indeed!"

The laundry detergent area of Quest Buy encompassed a few dozens of mile-long aisles, arranged in such a convoluted pattern that Marco would not have been at all surprised to find a minotaur trapped near the center. Fortunately, he really had been studying the store map and both lists, back in Jaya's tent, not simply pretending to do so for the sake of avoiding conversation. Although, well, he had to admit that had certainly been part of the motivation. 'An anti-social squire is an oriented squire', he mentally quipped.

Soon enough, they doubled around another corner, and Marco was able to get ahold of the second magical detergent, a shimmering multi-color liquid called _'Beholder's Cleansing Tears: Ten-in-One Multipurpose Detergent'_. All things considered, they were making excellent time, and should still have a fair chance to catch up to the others, Marco thought.

The last magical detergent was at the end of its corresponding aisle, which also happened to exit out of the 'detergent maze' and into the store's main path for this section. _'Merlin's and Melvin's Bubbling Pods: Removes Soil, Slime, and Sorcery,'_ the bright purple package announced. All Marco had to do was to grab it on the way out, and then rejoin the squire race.

The boy reached out for a bag, when he heard a sharp whistling sound. Instinctively, he stopped on his tracks, and withdrew his hand, just in time to see the arrow hit the package he was just about to grab. Marco looked up, to see a grinning Old Guy, just around the corner, pointing a now-empty bow towards him. His knight, Sir Dashing, seemed to not have noticed the act, distracted as he was by a shelf full of hand-held mirrors.

"What the hell was that for!?" Marco protested.

"Well, partly payback for getting in the way back there with that demon." The elderly squire shrugged. Then, he seemed to ponder for a second or two, stroking his long beard slowly with his now free hand, even as he held the grip of the bow with the other. "But, mostly, it was a distraction."

"A dis…" Marco begun to ask.

Then his brain caught up with what had been said, and he turned to look back at his cart. There was something missing. He spotted a weird upwards movement from the corner of his eye, glanced up to follow it, and…

Artax Ed Diaz, as the boy had tentatively named the brown baby horse, was slowly floating away from the basket of their shopping cart and into the sky.

No, not floating, it was _dangling_ , from a surprisingly strong string that ended in a single huge juicy carrot. And it wasn't going towards the sky, but towards Higgs, who was standing atop the detergent shelf and quickly reeling in the fishing line back. Soon, the mewman girl was cradling Marco's horse in her arms.

"Thanks for getting this for me, _prince_. I knew I could count on you for that, so I went ahead and raced to get the best bow first," she explained. "It's just like I said, a _helpful_ squire is the best squire."

Still carrying the baby horse in her arms, Higgs leapt across the aisle Marco was in, landing on the next shelf and, from there, she jumped down the far end. A second later, a smirking Sir Stabby and a cart full of weapons and armor emerged from the next aisle, into the cross-path, joining Old Guy and Sir Dashing, as all four of them raced forward once more, leaving behind a dumbfounded Marco.

"Marco Diaz," remarked Lavabo, "I do not believe the young lady's praise to have been sincere."

Marco sighed. He grabbed a few bags of _'Merlin's and Melvin's'_ , and then raced after the damn thief of a squire.

He passed by the archery sets' aisle, only to realize someone had cut the string from all remaining bows. Marco groaned and pushed forward. He was now not only dead set on recovering Artax Ed Diaz, but also on beating Higgs to the stupid dragon repellent, and to everything else after that on the list.

He barely remembered to take the single-aisle detour that it took to get the Bucket of Holding: a simple wooden washbucket which could apparently hold hundreds of gallons of water in a single gallon's space (without increasing its weight at all after the first gallon either). He still got it first, though. After all, the wash items took priority.

Not that it made it hurt any less when he arrived to the dragon repellent shelves to find a smiling Higgs, leaning on an _empty_ shelf, holding a single spray can.

It seemed like everyone else had gotten there just before the squire. Timore and Nick were already racing back in the opposite direction, and they passed Marco on the way back, followed by Old Guy and Baby Man. For a brief moment, the human boy considered trying to steal the spray cans the later two were holding, as they raced by him. But no, he wouldn't sink to their level. He let them pass.

Besides the redheaded menace, was the goth girl, already having added a few cans of repellent to her own cart. She was trying to explain something to her knight, a huge scar-covered terror of a man, who held out some sort of hearing aid towards her. As Marco arrived, the two of them began turning their cart around.

"Hey, _prince_ , you want this?" Higgs shouted at him, still standing by the shelves. Apparently, she had stayed behind just to taunt him. From his wooden horse, Sir Stabby grinned approvingly. "Here, you can have it!"

She threw the can at him.

Yeah, right. No way this wasn't a trick. At this point, Marco was not even half convinced Higgs wasn't throwing a grenade his way. He had to think fast.

He dug into his pocket, took out the dimensional scissors, and cut a hole right in front of him. The can of dragon repellent fell through the vortex. A second portal opened a few meters ahead of him, between where he was standing and Higgs. That way the can would still fall close enough to him that he could grab it before she could, but far enough to be safe in case it really was a bomb or something.

"What? Seriously? Dimensional Scissors? Come on!" shouted Higgs, annoyed. Marco grinned at her frustration, happy to be getting one up on her for a change, until he realized his own mistake.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying attention to the third squire. The can fell right in front of the goth girl and her knight, as they raced back out of the aisle, towards Marco's incoming path. The shaken container seemed to rupture as soon as it hit the ground. Fortunately, it didn't really explode, just cracked, letting out a hissing stream of bright pink gas. So, not a bomb.

The dark-haired girl froze up surprised, glancing apprehensively at the fractured can. It was the first time Marco had a chance to get a good look at her.

She was thin and pale, and her face was measuredly gaunt. Marco couldn't quite tell if the dark circles under her eyes were some kind of mewnian makeup, the natural effect of an extremely irregular sleep schedule, or a combination of both. He could, however, tell that her squire uniform had been dyed black, possibly with actual charcoal, and ripped up on purpose. The effect was not entirely unlike that of the rips Star had made on her own outfit that one time she tried to go for a punk look (and also attempted to murder a mermaid, but that was beside the point). The goth squire's outfit was further enhanced by a series of black leather belts strewn at odd angles around her legs, arms, and torso, as well as a pair of rough looking leather boots. In her cart, besides her would-be purchases, was the strange iron mandolin.

She coughed a few times under the assault of the pink smoke and glanced back nervously at the other girl, as if asking her what to do now.

Higgs flinched, "Ouch. Crap. Sorry about that Meredith, Sir Scarsguard!" she shouted towards the goth and her mentor, right before grabbing ahold of her own cart and tailing it out of there.

Marco noticed that Higgs was racing away in the opposite direction from him, avoiding the area where the repellent can had burst, rather than going back the same way, like all other squires had done. He also noticed that the goth girl - Meredith, was what Higgs had called her - looked shocked, even afraid.

He had such a bad feeling about this...

That's when he heard the roars, and the flapping of huge wings. Out from high above the tall shelves, a trio of towering green dragons came barreling in from nowhere, swooping down on a terrified dark haired pale girl and a confused old knight. The girl scrambled to find a small knife from her cart and held it up with trembling hands.

There was a crackle of static, and then yet another bored sloth announcement filled the air. "Apparently, we've got dragons on aisle 14.2... again."

Wait, _'again'_? Was this somehow a regular occurrence? What the hell was wrong with this place!? Actually, no, it was more like: what the hell _wasn't_?

Without thinking, Marco raced towards the other squire and her knight, pushing Sir Lavabo and his own cart ahead of him. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he felt he had somehow dragged them into this, and was not about to let them get hurt. Still, holy crap, dragons!

Marco got there just ahead of the creatures. He swept down and grabbed the can of repellant from the floor. Then, without letting go of his own, he took hold of the handle of Meredith's cart, and pushed it as hard as he could. It wasn't so much that he thought he could drag both carts forward, as it was the quickest way he could think of to spur the goth girl herself into action. It was the universal non-verbal cue for 'Let's get the fuck out of here, now!'.

She nodded in understanding, and soon both of them were running, side by side, pushing their respective carts and knights. A fierce roar filled the air as three dragons, each the size of a small flying house, gave chase.

"Woah, what's going on!?" Marco asked, not daring to slow down to look back. "Those dragons sure sound angry…"

"That's not _'angry'_..." the goth girl shouted back. Her voice was a bit rough, particularly in contrast with what Marco had expected from her small frame, and it had a hesitant note of embarrassment to it.

"What do you mean that's not angry?" Marco asked. "They're still following us! That repellent must really make them mad!"

"That's not repellent! Higgs switched the labels. That was dragon _attractant_!"

Marco blinked. Dragon _attractant_? Who the hell would want dragon attractant? What the hell even was 'dragon attractant'? Well, other than obviously the _opposite_ of dragon repellent? Why did Quest Buy even sell that? Seriously, screw this place!

Wait, dragon _attractant_ , as in...

"Then, that roar at the end was…" he started to ask.

"... a mating call!" the goth girl confirmed, clearly irritated at having to spell it out for him.

Crap!

"Wait, how do you know about the labels?" Marco asked, as they both doubled a corner, the dragons behind them stumbling briefly against a shelf full of cannon balls.

A thunderous cacophony of crashing metal weights against the floor muffled her response.

"What!?" Marco asked again.

"I said: Higgs told us the plan. Well, most of us, not the demon or the geek, though," Meredith confirmed his suspicions. Marco frowned. Well, glad to know he hadn't gotten an innocent bystander involved, just another jerkass squire like Higgs or Old Guy. "It sounded like a great prank at the time, and, you gotta admit, dragons are pretty rad."

Marco wasn't sure he could agree with that statement at the moment.

"Look, obviously it isn't _nearly_ as funny when you are on the receiving end," she pointed out. "But don't worry. Nothing really bad will happen to us, I swear, or my name is not Morticia-Gehenna-Lethia-Symphonia!"

"I thought your name was _Meredith_!"

There were a few moments of silence after that, eventually interrupted by a growl and the sound of talons scratching the stone floor not too far behind them.

"Look, _prin_ … ugh, _Marco_. Dragons have senses other than smell. They will give up on the, um, mating part, as soon as they figure out we are mewman," she reassured him.

"And then?" Marco asked, annoyed. "Will they just calmly go away?"

"Well, maybe," Meredith answered. She seemed to think for a moment. "There is a small chance they will try to eat us. Depends on how hungry they are..."

Marco groaned. "Sir Lavabo, we don't have much time. Throw something from the cart at them so there's more distance between us!"

Lavabo turned towards Marco in surprise. "I'm afraid I cannot do that, Marco Diaz. Putting aside the supreme importance of these items, this is a trial for _squires_. Assisting you is out of the question. My sole duty today is to sit here and observe how _you_ can handle this predicament."

Seriously? Even if said predicament included both of them being crushed by lovestruct dragons? Marco was about to argue back, when Lavabo simply turned to the other knight.

"Ah, Sir Scarsguard, doesn't this bring memories?" he remarked. "They don't make them like they used to, right? Dragons, I mean."

"Drag… on?" asked the (somehow _older_ ) knight, pressing his hearing aid closer. "The wait does drag on a bit. Do you know if the race is starting soon?" he asked, obliviously. Even Lavabo didn't seem to quite have a response to that.

Geez, did the concept of retirement even exist in Mewni! Nevermind, Marco had more pressing problems right now.

He realized he was still holding the can of dragon attractant. Well, maybe there was still enough of the stuff in there to…

He stopped, then turned back. Right in front of him was the huge open maw of one of the dragons. He aimed the nozzle towards it, and pressed the button, showering the creature with the spray. When no more would come out of the can, he chucked it right at the beast's looming throat, forcing it to stop for a moment and spit it out.

The dragon looked confused at first, then its eyes narrowed as it glared at Marco. It let out a growl that was unlike any the young squire had heard before. Now, _this_ was what an angry dragon sounded like. It opened its mouth towards the human once again and bared its teeth.

Unfortunately for the creature, however, that was when two of its fellows fell atop of it, roaring excitedly.

Marco smiled. His gamble had paid off!

Then, a second later, his satisfied expression turned into one of shocked embarrassment, as he considered what he was now looking at.

"Ah, Marco Diaz," Lavabo remarked. "While the breeding habits of the common green dragon are indeed remarkable, might I recommend getting back to our current quest."

"What's that about a guest!?" shouted back Sir Scarsguard.

Right.

Marco and Meredith took off from there, pushing their two knights, and soon emerged out into the main path again, only to be confronted by an snickering Higgs and Old Man, as they added the last few good helmets to their own carts.

"Oh, hey, _prince_. So, quick question, is Meredith here a step down from dating the princess or a step up from dating a dragon?" Higgs quipped.

Marco was about to point out he hadn't dated any of the three, when the goth girl interrupted.

"Oh, hey, Higgs, thank for all the help back there… _not!_ " she shot back, clearly annoyed.

"Aw, come on, Meredith, you finally got to see dragons up close, and got saved by our very own resident prince charming," the redhead shrugged. "Isn't that the stuff of songs?"

" _Hack_ songs, maybe," grumbled the dark haired girl. "In my songs, the dragon would be bigger, and would only be conquered after a battle the likes of which would paint the skies red with blood… Marco here would have lost an arm to the beast, and I, as the pure maiden in distress, would have been… You know what? Not the point!" she stopped herself, embarrassed.

"Wow, that… _actually_ sounds epic," Higgs goaded her on. "Why don't you give it a try. I am sure our prince would love to hear such a song about him!"

Marco wasn't so sure about that. And now was hardly the time. There was still a race going on!

No one else seemed to share Marco's sentiment, however, as the goth girl looked elated at Higg's suggestion, so much so that she seemed to forget that the other girl had left her to deal with three damn dragons just a few minutes ago.

"Alright then," Meredith exclaimed, pulling out her iron mandolin. "Be prepared to feast your ears on this!"

"Oh, don't worry, we are," Higgs remarked. Marco noticed she was grinning. It was not a good grin.

Old Man was grinning too, and they both seemed to be rummaging their pockets for something. Sir Stabby and Sir Dashing followed. Were those… ear plugs?

Meredith inhaled deeply, coughed, and began to strum her mandolin like she wanted to rip the metal-wire strings out of it. The iron instrument made a loud screeching noise, which was only matched by the vocal cords of its owner.

 _"_ _MUR-DEER of DraGOOONS!_  
 _Descending like vultures, RIPping, deVOURing!_  
 _The flesh of the WARiors, the maiden's LAAMeeeeent!_  
 _She crieees out foooor…_  
 _DEATH. DEATH!_ _ **DEAAAAAATH**_ _!"_

Ugh. Not only did that have nothing to do with what the two of them had just been through, but that song was literally painful to hear, on so many levels. It was as if that girl had taken pitch lessons from Oskar, had all of Ruberiot's sense of lyrical propriety, and wasn't so much playing a guitar as running a shrieking hippopotamus through a gigantic metal blender.

Her voice alone had fell from her already surprisingly deep default to a stream of guttural raving cries that somehow made the tiny mewman sound like a drunk viking, or what Marco imagined a drunk viking would sound like.

 _"_ _MUR-DEER of DraGOOONS!_  
 _A heRO is drAWN, by crieees of despAIR!_  
 _The maiden's BLOOD, calling for Revengeeeee!_  
 _He brings fists, iron, aaaand..._  
 _DEATH. DEATH!_ _ **DEAAAAAATH**_ _!"_

"Marco Diaz, we are experiencing unconventional tactics!" Lavabo shouted over the noise. The old knight was covering his own ears with his hands, and Marco suddenly realized he was doing the same. "May I recommend a strategic retreat?"

Lavabo didn't have to say it twice. Marco took hold of the cart's handlebar and pushed away from there, as fast as he could, only caring about the particular direction after they had gotten far away enough from the eardrum-rupturing screams. It suddenly made sense that this girl had been paired with a deaf knight, as Sir Scarsguard seemed to be the only one who hadn't been bothered at all by her singing.

The hours that followed were a brutal trial of Marco's resolve to complete both lists. Higgs seemed to be always one step ahead of him, and it felt like the very aisles of Quest Buy conspired against him.

He would, for example, succeed in grabbing a magical washing sponge from Lavabo's laundry items list, just to find out that the slight detour meant that, by the time he had gotten to the shield's shelf, Higgs had flung the last three remaining bucklers into a nearby aisle containing nothing but potted carnivorous plants. True, he got a ratty old shield in the end, but he also got bitten and scratched at by ferocious shrubbery that had no explainable reason to be a purchasable item.

Getting armor oil for the Wash took crossing a kraken petting zoo, which he had to brave twice, as the first time around Higgs appeared out of nowhere to shoot the oil can from his hand and into the huge pool with a well timed arrow. Also, when Quest Buy said " _petting_ " zoo, it meant you _could_ indeed pet the monstrous cephalopods, but only as long as you hadn't grown too attached to having two hands or remaining un-strangled.

Trying to outsmart her, Marco had attempted a shortcut to get to the battleaxes. Unfortunately for him, said shortcut passed through the aisle hosting Quest Buy's huge selection of poison darts, where Marco barely managed to avoid all the flying 'free samples'. Those still managed to delay him long enough that everyone else had gotten first pick at the weapons. All that remained for him to grab was a dull iron ax.

Then there was that time he turned around into a hallway at top speed, only to find himself right in front of a yellow "Caution: No floor" sign, and a dark bottomless drop only a step ahead. Also, the time Timore had to bail him from a cascade of sand in the "Egyptian Cotton, All Essentials and More" section. Plus the time he had to rush to the earmuffs section because Meredith somehow had gotten hold of the sloths' PA system and was intent on giving them all a sample of her ballad about the Forest of Certain Death (or, rather: **_DEAAAAAATH_** _!_ ).

By the end of it, Marco was tired, sore, and about to explode with irritation. Higgs seemed intent on making his life a living hell, and she had thrown everything at him but the kitchen sink, and that was only because the home decor section of Quest Buy was roughly 50 miles away.

The squire had managed to get nearly every item in the laundry shopping list. But, as for standard knight equipment, the redhead had basically seen to it that Marco and his mentor ended up with, at best, substandard equipment, and at worst, nothing at all, for each of the categories.

"Worry not, Marco Diaz," Lavabo reassured him. "You have fought honorably today, and we haven't failed on our primary duty. The worth of a knight is often measured by the caliber of his opponents, and this Higgs of yours is a formidable rival indeed..."

"Or perhaps, laundryman, it just comes to show that a _pity-case squire_ can't measure up to the real thing," a smug voice remarked behind them, as a shopping cart chock-full of the best weapons and armor money could buy ('at steep, once in a lifetime, discounts!') passed them by, not for the first time. Sir Stabby grinned triumphantly.

Say what you will about the jerk, but he seemed genuinely proud of Higgs. Birds of a feather and all that…

"Ready to call it quits, _prince_?" Higgs taunted Marco. "Going to tell your princess ex-girlfriend that being a squire is too tough, after all? Maybe she can offer you a job more suitable to your abilities, like 'palace buttler'"

Marco's fists clenched around the handle of his cart. You know what? Screw honor, and fairness, and even showing them someone worth respecting. He wanted to wipe that smug grin from her face so much. He wanted to, to…

"What is your goddamn problem!?" he shouted, letting go of his cart. "You don't like me? Fine. I don't much care for you either! But you could have just gone ahead of me the entire race. Instead, you have constantly gone out of your way to screw me over. I have done _nothing_ to you! Not a thing. But you don't care, do you!? You just want to pick a fight. Fine, you got it!"

He adopted a karate stance. This wasn't what the Squire Blowout competition was about. But Marco just didn't care anymore. He was that angry.

Higgs smiled calmly at him, shrugged, let go of her cart, and cracked her knuckles.

"Marco Diaz, this isn't proper duel etiquette for a squire of the Order of the Wash…" began Sir Lavabo.

"Crush that washboy, Higgs!" demanded Sir Stabby.

A small crowd of onlookers was beginning to form. While a few of them were random shoppers, the majority of them were Mewni's own squires and knights. The young squires made no attempt to hide their excitement at what was occurring. They wanted to see a brawl, and based on the name they were shouting in unison, there was a clear favorite.

The only ones who showed any concern for Marco were Nick and Timore. Lady Jaya could also be seen behind them. She neither displayed a look of disappointment or approval at the scene, just a curious expression that wondered if Marco really had what it took to go through with this.

Marco felt that lightning and thunder should have erupted around them at that moment, to mark their final showdown. Instead, the persistent crackling static of the PA system went out and, rather than thunderclap, they got the monotonous voice of the bored sloth announcer.

"Attention Quest Buy shoppers, we are, um, _excited_ to announce that, uh, a special item has been added to the Squire Blowout Sale. For this year's event only, we are offering a..." there was a pause, and the sound of rummaging through papers, "... 99.5% additional discount on our vorpal swords. We have..." more rummaging, "... _one_ item in stock in this category. Aisle 13.9. That's all."

It was as if, in that moment, both Higgs and Marco's brains were one and the same. Both of them ran back to their respective carts, spun them around, and began racing as fast as they could towards aisle 13.9. Forget a fistfight, Marco could only imagine the pleasure of beating his nemesis to the final and most exclusive item of them all. He would show her, he would show them all!

Fortunately, Marco's cart was originally closer to the main path, which meant he started in the lead by default. Unfortunately, Baby Man and Old Guy's carts had been even further back towards said main path, which meant both of them were ahead of him. Strangely, instead of racing ahead of the squire of the Wash, the two squires seemed to be heading towards him. They seemed, in fact, to be converging from both sides to a position just ahead of his own, trying to block his path.

"No! Let him pass!" yelled a voice behind him. "I don't need any help to beat that pampered idiot!"

Looking somewhat surprised, the two bullies obeyed Higgs' command and let Marco through. Other squires were either too far behind now, or had, upon seeing the expressions in Higgs' and Marco's faces, decided that they'd rather not get in between the two of them. It was clear to Marco then that at the end of the day, the sword would belong to one of them, and there was only one outcome he was willing to accept.

True to her boast, the redhead was quick to catch up to Marco. For a moment they were side by side, with him barely managing to push the cart fast enough to keep her from fully overtaking him.

Suddenly, Higgs veered inwards and pushed Marco away with the side of her own fully-loaded cart, using its mass against him. He swerved to avoid the brunt of the impact, and then pushed himself harder to catch up, coming behind the redhead with a fierce karate chop aimed directly at her head. Higgs ducked, but Marco used the chance to slam his cart into hers, pushing her out of the way and getting ahead in their race towards the exclusive sword. Payback, too, was a bitch.

"Marco Diaz, I am not sure that is quite the way one should treat a fellow squire…" begun Lavabo. An instant later, an arrow flew by the two of them, and Marco swerved abruptly to avoid it. Both squire and knight turned back, to see a furious Higgs holding her bow with one hand and tensing the string with her mouth as she pushed her cart with the remaining free hand. As she readied yet another arrow, she was also quickly catching up to the two of them. "Although, it is quite possible that I am mistaken in this matter," the older knight admitted.

"Aim lower!" Sir Stabby gleefully advised his charge.

Despite having to swerve again and again to avoid the incoming projectiles, Marco was able to keep a very modest lead. That is, at least, until they turned around into Aisle 13.9 and the path literally ended for all four of them.

Aisle 13.9, it turned out, was not so much an aisle, as it was a deep water canal in between two sets of half-submerged shelves. The underwater racks carried shells and other such aquatic items, but no swords of any kind. Instead, hanging on a solid stone wall at the end of the aisle, a glowing neon arrow sign pointed down, towards a fully submerged cavern entrance. Above the sign was a cartoony picture of an arm holding a sword made entirely of fluorescent blue lights. The sword had big eyes and a doopey smiley face drawn on it. Ugh, Marco hoped that wasn't what the vorpal sword actually looked like.

He had stopped his cart, and was beginning to remove his trademark red hoodie, when a shadow passed flying right over him. He looked up to see Higgs, who had somehow vaulted over him, and was now in the process of executing a perfect olympic dive into the water, fully dressed. Darn it!

Without bothering with taking out anything but the hoodie, Marco jumped into the narrow canal as well, following his rival. He was already angry at himself for wasting time and for having let her get ahead of him. His annoyance only grew when he realized the squire girl was actually a pretty damn good swimmer too. Even worse, they seemed to be swimming against a fairly strong current, which favored the girl's stronger arms and legs.

As pissed as he was towards her as a person, he had to admit a grudging level of respect for the girl's athletic skills. Hell, she might even qualify as cool, if she weren't such a…

"What's the matter, _prince_? Missing your floaties?" she yelled back, right before she disappeared into the cave ahead of the human boy.

Marco swam as fast as he could towards the end of the aisle, lifted his head to take a deep long breath and, without pausing to consider the risks, dived into the underwater cave after the other squire. As hard as he tried, it seemed like he couldn't quite catch up with Higgs there. It took all he had just to keep advancing against the rapid flow inside the cave. But as long as he could keep her close in sight, he still had a chance.

There was another problem, though, and that was the fact that there was no air inside the long tunnel. Not only had the entrance to the cavern been submerged, but the entirety of the passageway beyond was underwater. Some source of light was visible on the other side, but Marco wasn't sure he would be able to hold his breath long enough to reach it, particularly as the current pushed against them between every stroke.

Crap. Would he die here? Drowning in a dumb Quest Buy submerged aisle, trying to win a sword just to show up an annoying girl he had just met? When you put it that way...

A huge spiky spiral seashell came rushing at him through the flowing water, and Marco had to dive further down just to avoid it. He looked up, through stinging, water-filled eyes, and saw the blurry form of Higgs pushing even more crap out of the submerged shelves, letting the current push them towards him.

Ok, that did it! She was so going down!

Marco ignored the burning sensation of his air-starved lungs. He dived further down towards the floor of the aisle, where the current was the weakest, and swam as fast as he could. Eventually, he saw some light filtering through the water from directly above, and pushed up against the sandy bottom with his feet. He came up and took a big, long, _urgent_ , breath.

Somehow, they had ended up in the middle of a huge circular lake, surrounded on all sides by tall walls of Quest Buy shelves. In the middle of the lake was an extremely detailed statue of a woman, made of white marble, and submerged almost entirely under the water. Only its right arm rose above the surface, and in that arm's closed hand, the statue held the golden hilt of a magnificent sword.

The blade seemed to Marco to emit a soft blue glow, but it could be the effect of the Quest Buy bizarre fluorescent lamps reflecting on the lake's cerulean surface. At any rate, Marco was thankful that the vorpal sword was far more dignified than the neon advertisement had implied.

However, Marco didn't have much time to admire the prize, as Higgs was already swimming towards it.

He followed behind, swimming as fast as he could. But, he soon realized, there was no way he could out-race the girl here, not if he had to play fair. She was stronger than he was, she swam faster than he did, and she was already ahead of him. The only thing that he could really do, was to try and outsmart her.

Marco pulled the dimensional scissors from his pocket. Suddenly relieved that they hadn't fallen out as he swam and gotten dragged away by the current.

He stopped swimming. There was no point in racing the other squire. He actually didn't have to get to where the sword currently was before Higgs did. He just had to grab it before she could reach it. He had line of sight. All he really had to do was to open a portal between where he was and the statue hand, take the blade from its display, and pull it back towards him through the dimensional vortex.

He had to do it quickly, though. Higgs was getting close to the goal.

Marco opened the portal and… a fist-sized rock came out flying from it.

He dodged, letting the current drag him ever so slightly, and turning to look at the other end of the portal. Floating besides the hilt of the blade, was a small swirling orange and gold vortex, just as expected. The redhead girl was swimming towards it as fast as she could. Her determined eyes fixed on the portal and the sword.

Marco swam back to his side of the dimensional opening and, without taking his eyes off from Higgs, pushed his hand through the portal once more to grab the sword.

The other squire seemed to notice this. Fast as lightning, Higgs took another swimming stroke, and opened her hand. That's when Marco noticed that she had been swimming with her fists clenched, holding a rock on each of them, likely at least since they reached the lake, maybe since back in the tunnel.

Marco realized that Higgs had seen the scissors before, back with the whole dragon attractant stunt. She had obviously taken those into account and formulated a plan ahead of time. She had counted on him using them. She had counted on him... cheating. And, well, she hadn't been wrong.

The second flying stone failed to hit his hand, but it still made Marco pull it back through the portal. At the same time, the other squire reached forward with her other hand and grabbed hold of the vorpal sword's hilt, right under where the marble fist closed against it.

Slowly, the statue's hand opened up, handing the weapon to its new owner.

Higgs turned around to give Marco a triumphant grin. The human boy was, quite frankly, speechless.

Suddenly, there was a huge rumble, and the previously tranquil lake surface seemed to explode with motion all of a sudden. The water rose up in a heightening burst, which seemed to be centered where the statue holding the sword had been. Higgs was the first to disappear underneath, her entire form swallowed by a tsunami-like wave. An instant later, the wave reached Marco. He briefly lost all sense of direction, of up and down, as the wave threw him around like a rag doll.

Somehow, they both crashed on a sandy shore. Strewn around the place were coconut trees, beautiful seashells, and single shelves full of Quest Buy merchandise just seemingly growing up randomly on the beach. On the far shore, he could see the waves crashing over the walls of much more densely packed shelves separating the strange lake from the rest of the store. The barrier did block the flood somewhat, but plenty of water managed to go over even the tallest shelves.

Once again, the PA system broke its usual static to bring them the voice of the sloth, "Attention staff. We seem to have a spill in aisles 13 to, um, 84."

Through the confusion, Marco saw Higgs, holding the sword, slowly getting up from the sand, smiling victoriously, even as she dusted the sand off of her hair and wet clothes.

"I… I… I did it!" she stated, fighting to recover her own breath. For a second, she looked genuinely happy and surprised.

Then, her cheerful smile turned into the smug grin Marco was more familiar with.

"I win, _prince_. Even with your magic scissor bullshit. Even with _that_ undeserved advantage, I win!" she shouted. "Did the princess also give you those, by the way? Do you even know how valuable those are? What they really mean for those who truly do earn them?"

"I…" Marco _did_ know, actually.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Because even with that, I won! I was faster, stronger, smarter than you! And I got here on my own!" she shouted. At some point, she had gone from gloating to yelling in anger.

Marco felt confused at that. In the end, she wasn't wrong. That trick with the rocks had been quite clever, and the fact was, she had been winning the race itself either way at that point.

But he wondered why it was so important for her to win. _He_ knew why he wanted to show her up, and he was disappointed he hadn't managed to do that, but what was it to her? Clearly, it wasn't just about the sword.

For the first time, Marco wondered about Higgs motivations. Not why she hated him. He had asked himself that enough times, and he thought he understood the answer, unfair as it was. Rather, why did she feel she had this much to prove?.

"You know what?" Marco said. "Yeah. You won. Congratulations."

He didn't like admitting it. But what else was he going to say? He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of showing himself to be a sore loser. All he could do now was go back to where Sir Lavabo and their shopping cart were.

That was when he saw it. A small poster pinned against a coconut tree, half-smudged by the wave that had deposited them both here. Still, clearly visible in the poster, was an arrow, and a palm tree. A palm tree, inside a poster, nailed to a palm tree.

And not just any palm tree. A palm tree with a hole roughly the size of a person's head, and two holes roughly the size of a person's arms. A palm tree costume. _Star's_ palm tree costume!

To hell with vorpal swords and bows and horses! Marco had forgotten what was _really_ important here, and that was to get his bestie the present she had asked for! He had been so wrapped up in the competition, and in what the other squires thought of him, that he had forgotten his plan to chat with Star. He had all the Wash items, after all. So the second priority wasn't the knight items, it was the gift for his friend.

"So, what are you going to do now, _prince_?" asked Higgs. "Are you going to use those dimensional scissors to go back home to your own dimension? Are you going to go complain to the princess? Are you going to go hide in the castle basement with Lavabo until the year is over?"

"I, am going to go buy a silly costume," Marco pointed out smiling. Then turned around, and began walking towards the center of the island, following the direction of the poster's arrow.

He so wished he could have seen Higgs' reaction to that one. Then again, not seeing her reaction was the whole point. Sure, he had "lost", but, walking away from her long victory rant, to go get what was important to _him_ , felt a lot like winning.

Unfortunately, such self-congratulatory smugness lasted Marco only as long as it took for Higgs to come running past him.

"Uh. What are you doing?" he asked her.

She turned around and grinned, showing Marco the palm tree ad poster. She held it in her left hand, while the right still held the vorpal sword. "I am going to buy myself a silly costume, of course!"

"Wait, what? Why!?" Marco said before immediately chasing after her.

"Because _you_ want it, _prince_."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** **And there you have it. One chapter to go and the Quest Buy arc is finally complete. We promise the wait for the next chapter won't be nearly as long this time;)**

 **Thanks to all of our supportive readers and reviewers! Hopefully these chapters are worth the wait!**


	10. Chapter 10: The Blindfold

**Author's Notes: Whelp, this is the newest longest chapter in the fic for hopefully quite awhile. Please enjoy the conclusion of the Quest Buy arc!**

* * *

"Because _you_ want it, _prince_."

That had been all the reason Higgs had given him. All the reason she had needed to prolong their absurd contest well past the point of her own decisive victory. It made no sense that she continued to mess with him, when she had nothing to gain from it. So, of course, she _did_. Because not making sense and screwing with him were just what Higgs was best at!

Marco ran behind her, struggling to keep up with the much more athletic mewman.

This day had put the Earth boy through the freaking grinder, and apparently it wasn't done doing so. It was not enough that Marco had learned some vague lesson about respecting yourself or overcoming discrimination. It also wasn't enough to learn to admit defeat, or to respect stronger adversaries. Not at all! Instead, the lesson of the day seemed to be as follows: reality is a bitch, people are awful, and if you want something, even something as inconsequential as a silly palm tree costume, then you had to fight for it, you had to _earn_ it.

Well, he was going to do just that! He was going to grab the palm tree outfit before she did, he was going to give it to his bestie, and he was going to seem _thoughtful_ and _considerate_ while doing it!

He pulled out his dimensional scissors again, and tried to open a portal to get ahead of Higgs. Before he could go through it, Higgs simply sprinted towards where the exit vortex was forming and, with a swift motion, hit the swirling orange flames with her shiny new sword. The portal trembled briefly, and then it fizzled out entirely.

"Fun fact about _vorpal_ swords, _prince_ ," Higgs gloated. "They are pretty handy against magic. I haven't gotten to test it against anything solid yet, though. Wonder if I should try it out on that costume you want so much?"

Marco groaned. This was getting ridiculous! She seemed now a lot less like a fierce rival and more like an attention-starved puppy. She obviously had no use for silly costumes, but the girl just wasn't quite done screwing with him for the day.

As she stopped to brag some more, Marco took the opportunity to almost catch up to her the old fashioned way. It didn't seem the other squire minded, though. Right. She probably didn't just want to beat him to the costume, but keep him close enough to irritate him at every step of the way!

The worst part was, at first, Marco had thought he'd made a friend. Before meeting Nicholas and Timore, Higgs was the first person his age that Marco had met in Mewni. He had been hesitant to trust her at first, when he found out she was squiring under someone like Sir Stabby. He should have trusted that instinct, but, back then, the differences in their demeanors had seemed like night and day. While the older knight was rude, narcissistic, and demanding, Higgs was welcoming, patient, and had a great sense of humor.

Of course, all of that had been a facade. A beautiful mask Higgs wore to lure Marco into a false sense of security, so that she could embarrass him in front of everyone when his guard was down. When she tripped him into the mud, Marco was confused at first, hurt even. Higgs subsequent rant about how Marco being among their ranks was only due to his friendship with the princess, and that his position as squire was undeserved, didn't help things. It had been an uphill battle for Marco to make a few friends among his fellow squires after that, and only thanks to Lady Jaya's push had he been able to get himself to do even that much.

And now, Higgs was aiming to mess up his friendship with Star as well. The other squire didn't know this, of course, but Marco was sure she would literally explode with glee if she did.

Eventually, they both reached the display feature marked in the advertisement poster, which happened to be the bubbling caldera of a tiny volcano. Because, _of course_ it was. In the middle of it, in a high stone pillar, reachable only by a long narrow stone bridge over a lava-filled chasm, was the palm tree costume. Apparently, Quest Buy's store layout was the work of a bored Saturday morning cartoon villain.

Marco had no time to hesitate, as Higgs was already running through the perilous bridge, seemingly unafraid of the quite lethal fall. He followed close behind her. By a sort of unspoken agreement, they both chose not to attack or obstruct one another over the narrow pass. It was just not worth risking a painful fiery death, not when a single short misstep could take either of them right over the unprotected edge.

Once Higgs had made it past the first third of the bridge, with Marco only a few steps behind, the ground underneath them began shaking. Both squires slowed down, as they tried to keep their balance. Marco wondered, not for the first time, if this was worth it, even for Star's gift. Sure, he had missed their adventures, and the dangers Star often dragged him into, but this was a bit too much for a palm tree costume...

That's when the masks showed up.

Floating out from inside the lava on both sides of the bridge, eyes glowing an eerie burning red, fire dancing in their mouths, six Tiki masks came up to surround them. The one closest to Marco lazily opened its wooden mouth wide, as if yawning, and a ball of flames came out flying from it towards the squire. He barely managed to dodge it by stepping back in the last second.

Following that first attack, one after the other, the masks yawned, spewing fireballs towards the narrow bridge. As soon as the last was done, the first was ready to fire again. They harassed both squires with an endless rotating barrage.

Tiki masks? Really? Atop a fake island volcano? To get a palm tree? So, it was a _themed_ death trap? God, he hated Quest Buy _so_ much!

Much more slowly, Higgs and Marco made their way through the bridge, avoiding or blocking the fireball projectiles from all six masks. Marco managed to use dimensional portals to send a few of those towards the lava below, whereas Higgs' magical sword seemed to be able to deflect the fireballs as one would a baseball. Every time one impacted the vorpal sword, it glowed bright blue in response, and the offending meteor would be sent flying back in the exact direction it came from, with close to its original momentum, but reversed.

Marco had to admire the other squire's skill and determination, even if what she was determined to do was mostly to mess with him. Once again, he wondered what was that drove her to such competitiveness, before remembering that he himself had every reason to want to beat her this time. Not just for his own sake, but for the sake of patching things up with Star.

"Still following behind, _prince?_ " the girl teased as she deflected another fireball. "I don't know why you bother. You know all you are going to get is a chance to see me cut up your stupid costume up close, right?"

As they made it to the final fourth of the bridge, the Tiki masks begun falling down into the caldera again. Higgs was still in front, but Marco broke into a sprint after her. She responded by picking up the pace herself, despite the sword acting as a considerable weight already.

For the second time that day, he just wasn't quick enough. Marco sighed as he saw Higgs leap forward into the costume's tiny platform. She turned back to grin at him once more, holding onto the neck of the palm tree disguise with one hand, lifting her sword slowly with the other, as if to extract the most possible torment out of him, and then, Marco's eyes opened wide.

Behind the unaware redhead, a seventh Tiki mask had risen from the lava. This one was many times larger than the other six, and taller than the mewman it now loomed behind. It opened its mouth wide…

"Higgs! Watch out!" Marco yelled.

She turned around, but it was too late, a huge fiery meteor was headed towards her and the costume she held up now.

Higgs jumped out of the way, ditching the costume in the process. But the platform was far too narrow for that. Both Higgs and the palm tree outfit fell out, on opposite sides of the bridge, towards their respective volcanic dooms.

Marco raced forward, suddenly unconcerned about his own safety. He pulled out the dimensional scissors and threw himself off the narrow bridge and into the lava. He just hoped the added speed of his jump would allow him to get ahead of his target, to win the race against Higgs, just this once.

His wish was answered, and he found himself passing her on their way down towards their death. A few meters away, he could see the palm tree falling as well. But still, he didn't have time.

Marco cut one more portal, in front of him. He turned around, grabbed Higgs left hand, and pulled her towards him with all his strength.

They both fell through the portal and hit, not magma, but the surface of the water canal that was the floor of Aisle 13.9. Thankfully, it was deep enough to slow down their fall, as the momentum carried them down all the way to the sand-covered linoleum bottom.

Marco kept pulling Higgs by the arm as he swam up towards the surface and then towards the entrance of the aisle. Higgs was much heavier than Marco had anticipated. He soon realized the reason: her other hand, completely submerged in the water, was still holding onto the vorpal sword. _Geez_ , what a stubborn girl!

He had managed to open the portal under both of them as they fell, and thus, to bring them back all the way here, to where a gently smiling Lavabo and a shocked Sir Stabby waited, still atop their wooden cart-horses.

Higgs choked as she tried to breathe, having swallowed some of the water in the surprise and confusion. By the time they reached the edge of the stream-slash-aisle, she seemed pretty much fine to drag herself out on her own. Still, she looked at Marco like he had grown an extra head (which, since that had actually happened before, made Marco reflexibly pat his thankfully naysaya-free neck).

"Um…" she struggled to form words. "You… you grabbed me, instead of the thing you wanted... Why?"

"Are you _kidding?_ " Marco protested, offended. "No matter how much of a pain in the butt you are, I am not going to let anyone _die_ over a freaking palm tree costume!"

Both of their knights lifted an eyebrow at 'palm tree costume.'

"What in blazes happened to you out there, Higgs? Wait, nevermind. It doesn't matter," Sir Stabby said, disregarding his initial concern at record speed. "A fine job on obtaining that magnificent sword. Took you long enough, though. In fact, we're running out of time, and you must bring this cart to the checkout immediately!"

"Uh… yes, sir!" Higgs replied, with a resolute nod.

Despite still showing signs of disorientation, it took mere seconds for the experienced squire to dust off her uniform, hand Stabby his new weapon, and leave Aisle 13.9, all without paying Marco and Lavabo any further mind.

Marco sighed. He would have appreciated a 'thank you' from the girl whose life he had just saved. Well, it didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. Frankly, expecting gratitude from Higgs was like expecting the burning lava to be comfortably cool. It was just not going to happen.

Sir Lavabo remained seated on the wooden horse, looking mildly puzzled, yet composed. "Well, Marco Diaz, although this may be a first for the night, I do believe following Sir Stabby's example is the best course of action. If we do not purchase these items soon, they will return to their original prices once the sale is over. I fear the Wash budget is not as it once was, so we will only be able to afford most of them for the next ten minutes or so."

"Um, ok. Yeah. Right. Let's get going." Marco replied, shelving his thoughts on what had just happened for a later time.

Lavabo was right, the clock was ticking and, of course, Quest Buy promotions worked on the same schedule as Cinderella's fairy godmother: everything back to full price by midnight. Well, time to get these items to the checkout, before they turned into pumpkins. He grabbed the cart and followed the half dozen signs leading them to one of Quest Buy's many checkout sections.

Still sore from the day's exercise (and upset at the fact that he failed to retrieve Star's palm tree outfit), Marco wasn't very enthusiastic during the trek out, and his slow pace, despite the deadline, reflected that. It didn't help that Lavabo was unusually quiet the entire time. He must have been disappointed in the squire, yet didn't know how to express that disappointment in words. Perhaps Lavabo should approach Stabby for some pointers on that, the boy thought.

"Sir Lavabo, um, sir?" Marco asked awkwardly.

"Yes, Marco Diaz?" the old knight responded.

"I've been meaning to ask. This was obviously your first Squire Blowout as a knight but... how was it when you were a squire?" It must have been thirty to forty years ago, at least. Who knows how different Quest Buy, or, hell, Mewni was back then.

"Ah, an excellent question. While it was a long time ago, I remember it clear as day," Lavabo said nostalgically. "I only ever attended three total blowouts, since I became a knight shortly after the last one. The second and third blowouts were intense, but manageable. My first blowout was, by far, the most instructive."

Marco and Lavabo reached the checkout line right then. To their dismay, they found a single register open, maned by an elderly sloth. One which looked to be, if anything, more lethargic than was even common among Quest Buy's employees. It was currently busy attending Sir Scarsguard, while Meredith herself looked impatiently at the nonagenarian duo exchange pleasantries, one asking the other to repeat himself constantly, and the other calmly beginning its slow stuttering long-winded explanation anew.

Sighing, Marco looked around, quickly spotting the rest of the squires and knights feverishly pushing items through the automated self-checkout kiosks instead. He quickly turned his cart in that direction, picking the machine furthest away from anyone else in the group, Higgs and Stabby in particular.

"Sorry about that. What happened on that first blowout?" Marco pressed the old knight for more, right as he began fumbling with the unintuitive machine.

Lavabo smiled. "Like you, Marco Diaz, my first blowout had occured not long after I was appointed a squire of the Wash. I was thirteen at the time. My knight and mentor, Sir Hanger, stressed the monumental importance of the items we'd need to perform our duties, so he trained me in preparation for the entire week leading up to the blowout."

Huh, must of been nice to be even moderately prepared for the blowout, Marco thought, a little bitterly.

"Sir Hanger had given me the layout of Quest Buy, and forced me to memorize every single aisle, as well as the route we'd be taking that night, since I was expected to do the race blindfolded."

"What!? Are you serious!?" Marco looked up from the kiosk, startled. And he thought Stabby was bad!

Lavabo nodded. "It was the most grueling and difficult week I had experienced as a squire, despite me being as fresh to the Wash as a newborn lamb, but I would not have expected anything less from my own father."

Marco blinked. "Sir Hanger was your _dad?_ "

"Aye, and _what_ a father he was! He possessed all the great qualities you'd expect from both a knight and parent. Strong, yet gentle. Stoic, yet compassionate. He maintained the Order of the Wash for seventy straight years while raising five children. I could only hope to live up to his legacy."

"The Wash back then sounded less like a chivalric order and more like a family business," Marco noted, as he tried rotating a bag of _Merlin's and Melvin's_ twelve different ways until the barcode scanner finally picked it up.

"You would not be wrong for assuming so, Marco Diaz," Lavabo said. "I was the youngest of my siblings, and all of them had already been working in the Wash as squires themselves. When my oldest sister found out I was to do the Squire Blowout race blindfolded, she was confused. No such stipulation had ever fallen on them when they partook in the same test. I thought about it, and came to the conclusion that my father had the highest expectations for me as a squire, and I resolved I would not let him down."

"Were you able to do it?" Marco asked nervously, forgetting for a moment about the unscanned items.

"While I finished the race in time, I was not able to complete both the Wash and knightly gear lists. I believe I only attained half of what we needed. This, unfortunately, resulted in a turbulent year for the Wash."

So, 50% overall, Marco thought. Looking back at his own two lists, and at the items he was now bagging, he probably ranged from 60% to 70% of what they needed, and had gotten the vast majority of the Wash items. Perhaps he didn't do _as badly_ as he'd assumed. It was still shocking to learn that _Lavabo_ of all people didn't do well his first Blowout, especially with the extra training and his borderline unhealthy dedication to the Wash, which he apparently held since he was a teenager.

"What happened?" he cautiously asked, as he once again pressed back to cancel a mislabeled selection in the shoddy Quest Buy machine.

"I didn't see it myself, due to the blindfold, but apparently a fellow squire did not approve of my participation in the race, so they threw a halberd under my feet, which took us off course. Our cart crashed into a shelf of cauldrons. Not even my father, with his meticulous planning and routing, could have anticipated this event."

"Wow, so even back then people didn't appreciate those working for the Wash!" That annoyed Marco to no end! Like, what did it take to get some respect around here!?

"I understand your frustration, Marco Diaz. But that simply is not true," Lavabo said.

Marco blinked. "Huh?"

"When we crashed into that shelf, the blindfold I was wearing had become undone. Now, imagine living your whole life in Mewni, and then opening your eyes for the first time in a place such as Quest Buy. The fluorescent lights, the towering structures, the bizarre technology, and the many otherworldly beings who resembled monsters. How would you react?"

Marco didn't even have to think that hard about it. The memory of his and Star's first adventure in Quest Buy was still fresh in his mind. While Earth had shopping malls, those weren't nearly as large, strange, dangerous, or intimidating as Quest Buy was. He could only imagine that shock being amplified for someone who was only used to a medieval kingdom like Mewni.

Lavabo clenched his fist. "I was frozen with fear, and began hyperventilating, unable to stand back from the ground. My father could not calm me, and the other squires began laughing. I felt a strange mix of terror, embarrassment, and shame, and I didn't know what to do about it."

Despite this incident happening a long time ago, and the fact that the older man had, of course, moved on from it, Marco still couldn't help but feel sorry for Younger Lavabo. He had deserved better than that.

"At that moment, when all seemed hopeless, a squire dressed head to toe in silver armor made their way towards me. I half-expected to be rightfully attacked for my dishonorable disruption of the race, but instead, they kneeled down and lifted up their helmet's visor, revealing a young woman's soft face. She said this to me:

 _"_ _Hey, Eyebrows, they sell socks here. Are you really gonna let a place that sells socks bother you this much? Now get off your ass and stop embarrassing yourself. If you could make it this far with that silly blindfold on, imagine what you're capable of without it."_

Those words must have left an impression on Lavabo, since, literally decades later, he was able to quote them, word for word, right down to what had probably been the original intonation. In fact, Marco felt there was something strangely familiar about that tone. But, right now, he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Besides, well... "Socks?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, socks, of course!" Lavabo exclaimed. "It was so clear, and yet I didn't see it until it was pointed out to me: Quest Buy did, indeed, sell socks. And how could a place that understood the need for warm and comfortable socks be a place of terror? How indeed, when socks are surely one of the foremost signs of civilization!"

"Socks?" repeated Marco, now ever more perplexed.

"Alas, it might not seem so to you yet. However, I have been cleaning and folding clothing my entire life, so, of course, that means I have been around socks for just as long," Lavabo said. "You see, Marco Diaz, it is my belief that socks are what separates civilization from barbarism. All creatures possess an instinctive desire to survive. If you are hungry, you eat. If you are cold, you start a fire. But doing the bare minimum will only get you so far in this world. When the first mewman settlers arrived on Mewni, they faced a harsh winter. Their usual methods of survival were insufficient. The ground was so cold that the barefoot hunters could not fetch food for their families. They tried setting their feet on fire to counteract this, but that came with its own problems..."

"So… they invented socks?" Marco tried to follow the older man's line of reasoning.

"That's correct!" Lavabo said, beaming with pride at his squire's astuteness. "One man or woman among those settlers was ambitious enough, bold enough, brilliant enough, to try something never done before, and it ended up saving all mewmans. The creation of socks was the first of many brave steps Mewmankind took to conquer nature and surpass the Monsters who sought their destruction."

"All because of socks?" Marco asked, trying to make sure he fully understood the argument.

"Indeed. After that squire's wise words, I remembered that tale, which was first told to me by my father," the knight added. "I began thinking, 'Can a place that understands the importance of socks really be all that bad?' As I looked around, I noticed the strange creatures, who I originally feared, were also wearing socks. That was our common ground, and the mark of a learned and proper folk. They were not here to devour me. They were simple people making purchases at a store."

Marco was less than convinced about that particular test of character, but he didn't really want to interrupt his enthusiastic mentor.

"Quest Buy represented a place where civilized people from all walks of life came to make their lives in other dimensions easier, brought together by the pursuit of comfort. A pursuit that, for mewmans, at least, had begun with the humble sock," declared Sir Lavabo. "That realization, combined with her other words of encouragement, were enough to break me out of my fear-induced paralysis. Unfortunately, it was somewhat late for me to accomplish all that my father had expected of me. Still, be as it may, I was able to at least finish the race."

"I… uh…" Marco was at a loss. He was fairly certain that Sir Lavabo was stretching that female squire's words further that even a pair of spandex socks would go. Marco wasn't sure if he should question it, though. After all, did it really matter in the end? One way or another, no matter how indirectly, that girl's words helped Lavabo fight through what must have been his lowest point as a squire.

"I had experienced a great failure that day, Marco Diaz. However, despite my father's disappointment and the ridicule I faced from the other children, my role as a squire did not end there. In fact, the mistakes I made helped me learn valuable lessons about keeping calm in the face of strange environments or chaotic circumstances, and about finding common ground where there seems to be none. It was much better that I learned those things in Quest Buy, rather than on a battlefield, where those same mistakes would have cost my life. I do not know what lessons you've learned today, with your own mistakes, but they will help you in the future, I promise you that."

Marco looked down. He wanted to tell Lavabo what he had learned today, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what that was. He thought long and hard about the question, as he finished ringing the last few items and began scrolling through a twenty-screens long list of payment methods, looking for Mewnian golden coins and rubies (or, failing that, some way to pay with 650 US dollars...).

Had he actually learned anything? Marco spent the whole day trying to prove himself to Higgs and the others, which blew up in his face. Yet, at the same time, squires like Nick and Timore respected and even helped him out when he needed it. But what could he take from that? That he should seek the approval of his peers? Or that he shouldn't? That it was better to stand up to bullies? Or to avoid them?

"I'm sorry, Sir Lavabo, but I don't exactly feel enlightened after all this," Marco said, truthfully. "I didn't just fail to get all the knight gear, I let my emotions get the better of me. While that vorpal sword _would_ have been a big help to the Wash, I wasn't even thinking about that. I just wanted it to finally beat Higgs at her stupid game for once. I tried to be the honorable one, but, in the end, I was just as bad as her."

"There you have it," Lavabo said. "That is your lesson. I couldn't have said it better myself."

Marco took a second to try and process that. "What?" He let the large gold coin he was in the process of feeding to the machine fall clattering to the floor.

"You have the self-reflection to see where you went wrong. You were blinded by Higgs' provocations, and now that you have fully acknowledged that, the blindfold you were wearing can now come off. Congratulations!" Lavabo began clapping.

"Uh… thank you?" Marco felt like he had been tricked. Tricked in a good way, at least.

That still didn't really answer all his questions, he thought, as he picked back up the coin. That summary didn't tell him when to fight, or when to retreat. He had tried both, regarding Higgs, and failed each time. But, he now realized, the lesson wasn't about what he chose to do, but in how he had made that choice. In both cases, he had let his emotions take the decision for him, first to cower and then to match hostility with rage, rather than thread a calmer, more honorable, and smarter middle path.

"You are very welcome, Marco Diaz. And do not forget, while Higgs may antagonize you now, there will come a time where she will need to acknowledge you as an ally. But, until her own blindfold comes off, just be thankful that such a capable squire is working under our flag. If you ask me, the future of the Butterfly Kingdom has never looked brighter!"

Marco felt his face heat up a little. "Heh, yeah, hopefully." Feeling more confident in himself, the squire finished his struggle with the checkout machine with minutes to spare.

The user interface was terrible, of course, and the scanner itself had barely worked. But, in that regard, at least, Quest Buy truly wasn't any more fearsome than the more familiar Earth equivalents. Marco turned around, to see the mewman squires and knights still struggling with their respective kiosks. He hoped they would all figure them out in time, even Higgs, but didn't try to head back to help any of them. It was a part of their own test tonight, after all, Marco thought with a sly smile.

As the machine printed Marco's receipt, Lavabo finally stepped off the wooden horse and began stretching his arms and legs. "Ah, it feels like it's been forever since I last walked."

Marco chuckled. "Did they really expect you to sit on that thing the entire time without taking any breaks?" It looked beyond uncomfortable.

"When you look at it a certain way, the Blowout in and of itself is a break for a knight. While we indeed use the opportunity to analyze a squire's strengths and weaknesses, let it be known that all the accomplishments we basked in today were your own, Marco Diaz."

"Heh, well, I hope you enjoyed being able to sit all day for once. You obviously deserved it."

Lavabo smiled. "Now, if you excuse me, I must use the restroom. Once I return, we will join the others before they leave with Manfred."

"Alright, I'll wait here and guard our stuff," the boy offered.

As Lavabo began walking away from the cart, Marco could still hear the knight talking to himself.

"Now then, where would I be able to find the men's room? Quest Buy has so many different types of bathrooms since I was last here. What an exciting time to be alive!"

Heh. For being so old-fashioned and, well, _old_ in general, Lavabo was a really chill guy. If you had dumped a bunch of grumpy old men from Earth onto Quest Buy, they'd probably file a complaint for the variety of bathrooms _before_ the death traps and safety hazards would concern them.

"Hey, Marco!" shouted an excited voice behind him. The human turned around to see Nicholas pushing his cart towards him.

Lady Jaya walked calmly besides her squire. She was now off of the cart's wooden horse, which probably indicated that the other boy, too, was fully done with the Squire Blowout.

Marco couldn't help but notice that, unlike his own, the mewman squire's cart looked pretty much full of top notch knightly gear: gem-encrusted battleaxes, shimmering silver chain mails, an ornate yew longbow, and some less easily described items that hadn't even been on the list Lavabo had given him. It looked like the other boy had done much better in this challenge that Marco had. Honestly, in this particular instance, the human was glad that was the case!

"Timore says hi, too, by the way," added Nicholas, before Marco could even stammer a greeting of his own. "We were just talking about you, back at the checkout. She is sorry she couldn't come say goodbye in person, but, well, Sir Thorncloak was in a bit of a hurry to get back to Mewni, so he denied her request to stay back five more minutes. Anyways, just wanted to say: no matter what, you were _really_ cool back there!"

"Uh. I was?" Marco asked, surprised.

"Of course! I mean, you fought a dragon! And dived through an underwater cave like it was nothing! And, well, you actually used my self-screwing screws!" the inventor squire muttered excitedly. "Besides, you stood up to _Higgs!_ You should have seen her expression when you came from behind and forced her off course when racing towards the water! She was furious. I thought she was going to kill you when she had to pull her bow to catch up!"

Well, when you put it that way…

"Squire, I suggest you do not praise another's mistakes," remarked Lady Jaya sternly. "Not if you truly care for them. It does them no favors."

Nicholas turned around, looking hurt. He seemed to consider arguing with the severe female knight, but quickly decided against it. Instead, he averted his gaze downward. "Sorry, ma'am. I just thought..."

"Never value flashy tactics and foolhardy heroics over a solid strategy," she rebuked him. "Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," the boy repeated, as if by rote.

"Actually, Nicholas..." Marco stepped in. The older knight gave him a measured look. "... Lady Jaya is absolutely right. I mean, man, take a look at the stuff in your cart!"

Nicholas did, then looked at Marco's purchases. "Well, that's not really fair, though, is it? You had Higgs breathing down your neck the entire race, and you were having to deal with all this weird stuff she kept throwing at you, and you had to come up with all sorts of cool solutions to…"

"Yes. And, meanwhile, you were just quietly buying stuff. Right?" Marco asked. "I don't think I saw you do a single crazy or heroic thing tonight... other than helping me in the beginning, I mean," he backpedaled slightly. "You were mostly just collecting your knight's gear. Correct?"

"Well, yeah…" Nicholas said, sounding ashamed at not having done anything impressive tonight.

Meanwhile, Jaya's dour face had curved into a small conspiratorial smile towards Marco.

"And that's _exactly_ what made you the better squire tonight, Nick! Isn't it, Lady Jaya?" Marco pointed out. "I bet that, other than the vorpal sword, you got your knight better gear than Higgs did for Sir Stabby, too. All because you were not letting yourself be dragged into pointless fights. You kept to the background and that was a better strategy for getting ahead in this kind of race."

"As you said, squire," Jaya confirmed Marco's words, to her own squire's shock. "Glad to see there is hope for you yet. It certainly sounds like Sir Lavabo has already briefed you on _some_ of what you did wrong tonight." She paused once more, eyeing Marco up and down. "Would you be interested in my own assessment as well?"

Marco actually had to ponder the question for a few seconds. Whatever the old woman's feedback was going to be about, he was certain it would be brutal. Well, better to hear it now, than to find it out from experience later, he supposed. "Yes, please, ma'am."

"You were reckless, undisciplined, and prideful. Strategically, you had already attracted the attention of a potential enemy, so you could not have blended in the background and gain the advantage from being unnoticed. You could, however, have faked defeat early on, and surprised your enemies when they no longer expected the challenge. Instead, you made it a point to rise up to their provocations. You could have used misdirection to force them to employ resources poorly. Instead, you let your foe maneuver you into challenging them in the areas _they_ were the strongest. Tactically, you squandered too many opportunities for me to even list! For example: you could have doubled back the moment the girl went into the submerged tunnel, and simply grabbed the contents of her cart and added them to your own."

Marco blinked, shocked at the suggestion. That was devious! And dishonorable! And wouldn't Sir Stabby have stopped him from doing that? Wait, no, he couldn't have! Knights were only allowed to observe the race, which meant he actually could have…

"You might find that option distasteful. I would, as well, in those same circumstances. There is a value in having lines you won't cross. But, remember, to be unable to even _think_ of a course of action is not nobility, but idiocy," Lady Jaya explained. "A more honorable tactic would have been to do much the same, but grabbing the items from the shelves instead of another squire's cart. Either way, getting the vorpal sword was a time consuming enough process that you could have gotten almost all of what you are currently still missing while she was otherwise distracted. Most items were still available, despite a few conspicuous cases of enemy sabotage."

'Most items', including, say, Star's palm tree costume, Marco thought, bitterly.

"So, in summary: you failed to think. You acted on impulse and confronted your rival on their terms, instead of seeking to create your own. You mistook your own emotional need for recognition with the campaign's objectives and, in the end, achieved neither." Jaya took a deep breath. "But, at least those are your own mistakes. So, I am glad you are not repeating your knight's particular follies."

She smiled at Marco. "On that note, I made a mistake as well. When I advised you to earn the respect of your fellow squires, I fear I calibrated my remedy on someone else's ailment..."

"Uh, so, everything in moderation?" Marco tried once more to summarize the lesson of the day, poorly.

Jaya laughed. "A good enough starting point, for someone so young." She glanced back at her squire. "Nicholas, we do need to go now. Is there anything else you want to discuss with your fellow squire?"

"Ah, well, just that, um, do you think I could get another chance to try out that… 'phone', was it?" He shuffled nervously. "Not necessarily now, but… well… you know."

"Sure!" Marco beamed. "Come down to the Wash any time, and I'll show you a few other games and stuff."

The boy's face lit up at that. Jaya scoffed.

"Well, I suppose there might be a day or two this month you could be spared training, squire, if you are able to pick up a slightly brisker pace from now on."

Two days a month!? Wow. When he arrived at the Wash, Marco had thought Lavabo was a hardass. It turned out he might be among the least strict knights around, if Lady Jaya or Sir Stabby were anything to go by.

"Yes, ma'am!" replied Nicholas simply, seemingly content with his knight's generosity in the matter.

"Oh, by the way," the older knight added, "when you see Eyebrows, please give him these. Tell him they are from me, and to not set his feet on fire."

She threw a small package at the human boy, and marched away. Nicholas rushed behind her, trying to keep up with the knight's swift pace.

Marco stood there, stunned, holding the freshly bought pair of green and grey argyle socks.

 _Eyebrows._

That was what Jaya had called Lavabo back in her tent, before the race had even started. Marco had been dealing with a problem after another since then, so he'd forgotten that particular nickname. But, now, it all finally came together. He felt like an idiot for not having made the connection before. Jaya was...

Marco's train of thought was interrupted by a tapping on his shoulder.

He turned around and saw, _oh god_ , Meredith of all people! She had parked her cart behind them, with Sir Scarsguard taking a nap on top of the wooden horse. What concerned Marco the most, though, was the creepy smile she was giving him.

"We made a pretty good team back there, dontcha think?" the girl started, constantly looking up and down at Marco.

"Um… are you talking about the dragons? I guess we sort of worked together on solving that dilemma." Though Marco was hard pressed to think of _anything_ the girl actually contributed during that chase, he didn't want to contradict her and come off as rude. Lest she started singing her woes…

"Exactly! I remember it like it was a few hours ago! You were there, petrified with fear, as the dragons had just devoured your friend and mentor, Sir Lavabo, right before your eyes!"

"He went to the bathroom a few minutes ago," Marco said, trying to gently correct the girl's tall tale. And, if memory served him well, he had certainly been less petrified with fear than _she_ had!

Meredith didn't seem interestested in acknowledging Marco's correction, however, as she continued to prattle on. "Then, right before I was about to rescue you, the rage boiling inside your stomach exploded, awakening a brutal side of the Prince of Earth that even he didn't want to admit existed within him. In your newfound thirst for revenge, you grabbed several axes off the Aisle 14.2 end cap, and began slaughtering the horrid beasts. I came to assist you, but there wasn't much dragon left by the time I got there, just raw piles of meat on the floor. That beautiful cyan hoodie you were wearing was now drenched top to bottom in crimson dragon blood!"

"Ugh. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing cyan, Meredith." Cyan was _not_ a color that complemented Marco's complexion. Like, at all.

Wait, why was he even humoring the girl? It was clear she was just messing with him. There's no way this was her actual recollection of those events. Right?

"Um, _duh!_ Of course you weren't actually wearing a blue hoodie, but we need a cool backstory for our band, so I thought changing some of the details of how we met would make things more interesting and thematic!" Meredith proclaimed. "You see, the blue hoodie represented your innocence, but, after being covered in the blood of your enemies, it shows you have now experienced the horrors of war, and have fully embraced it!"

"'Our' _band?_ " Marco said, ignoring all the other stuff she said. He had the feeling that he would be doing that quite a lot when talking to Meredith.

"Yes, Marco. I, Medea Deianeira, have decided that, out of all these posers, _you_ show the most promise. So I've decided to make you my first band-mate. You are permitted to feel honored now."

"I don't even play an instrument!" Not that he'd want anything do with this girl's 'band', in any case.

Then Marco noticed something heading towards his face. Thankfully his Karate reflexes were fast enough to catch the object Meredith threw at him before it poked one of his eyes out. After giving Meredith a pissed off look, he took a closer look at the item. It looked like a flute with some ancient engravings on it.

"This is the music-making-thingy you'll be playing. It's an enchanted flute that can summon flesh-eating snakes. When performing live, we'll ideally be on a high enough platform that they can't reach us. Pretty cool, right? Can't believe it was as cheap as it was!"

Crap. This girl had 'bad news' written all over her. Marco wasn't sure if she was again just exaggerating reality to match her fantasies, or if snake summoning flutes were really a thing Quest Buy sold. He wouldn't have bet against either, really… Lavabo needed to get back here fast...

"Meredith! What the hell is all this crap!?" came a disbelieving cry from behind the two of them.

It was Higgs. She had somehow managed to sneak by Meredith's cart without her or Marco noticing. Sir Scarsguard was still fast asleep, of course, even after the redheaded squire's slight outburst. While Marco wasn't exactly happy to see Higgs, he'd appreciate anyone short of maybe Toffee interrupting that conversation he and Meredith were having.

"What are you talking about?" the goth girl asked, giving her a look of genuine confusion.

"Literally everything in your cart is some sort of instrument. Is this what you spent Sir Scarsguard's budget on? There's not a single piece of equipment or gear in here." Higgs lifted up a pure white saxophone from the cart, which, upon contact, turned her hands transparent, causing the hunk of brass to fall right through her grasp.

The sax hit the ground with a loud metallic ' _clang!_ ', so it's effect apparently did not extend to inanimate surfaces. It also seemed to be temporary, since Higgs' hands became solid again immediately after the instrument passed through them.

The redhead regarded the other squire with a rather pissed off expression. "And what's worse: these are all _cursed_ instruments!"

Marco walked over to Meredith's cart to see for himself, and, yeah, Higgs was not exaggerating. The cart was filled to the top with many instruments, not a few of which caused a strange unsettling sensation on the back of his head that grew worse the more he looked at them. He wasn't even sure if breathing the air around this stuff was safe. It made sense that Quest Buy would discount these items for some idiot (Meredith, for example) to take off their hands.

The human glanced up at the sleeping Sir Scarsguard and understood why Higgs was so appalled. Meredith had taken advantage of the Blowout to go on a shopping spree to satisfy her own dumb hobby. Plus, it wasn't likely that her knight would become aware of it due to his, uh, current state. There was nothing practical in this cart for Scarsguard to use. Not even the cans of dragon repellent he saw her grab a few hours ago were there anymore. Did she ditch them just to make more room for this crap? The more Marco thought about it, the more angry at Meredith he became. She wasn't taking her squireship seriously at all!

Meredith placed her foot on top of the white saxophone. "Of course they are all cursed! My band won't be a group of pansies! We'll be playing the instruments that society is too afraid of using, to express the dark hungers of our souls across the multiverse! I've already secured Marco's pair of dimensional scissors. So, once I gain more members, our musical conquest can begin!" The girl started laughing maniacally, like an eight year old when they grabbed the toy the other kids wanted.

Ah. So that's why Meredith wanted Marco to join her band! She wasn't interested in him at all. She just wanted his scissors to start her fantasy interdimensional tour!

Meredith fell face-first on the floor. The leg she had been resting on the saxophone had turned transparent, exactly like Higgs' hands had before. Right after that, her foot passed right through the instrument, making her lose her balance and trip forward. She rolled across the floor in exaggerated agony. "Argh! Toppled by my own Ghost Sax! How poetic!"

"I think the word you are looking for is ' _predictable_ '. Besides, if you are about to go and write a song about it," Higgs began. "I suggest you do so elsewhere, Meredith. Unless what you are asking is for me to knock some sense into you." She made a fist with her left hand, glaring at the would-be musician right through the top of her own knuckles.

The goth girl made a pouting face at Higgs. "But… I need to talk to Marco! We have to come up with a name for our band!"

"Well, he didn't seem very interested in your band to begin with. Plus, I need to talk to Marco first. So… get lost?"

Wait. Higgs wanted to talk to _him?_ Now Marco wasn't sure which girl he wanted to stay. Ideally both of them would just leave him alone but, well, when had the squire ever been that lucky?

Meredith glared at the other two squires before shrugging. " _Hmph_. Fine. Even I know better than to get on your bad side, Higgs." She quickly picked up the cursed sax from the floor and hurled it onto her cart before it could make her body ghost-like again. The shaking of the cart almost caused Scarsguard to wake up from his nap. _Almost_.

As she headed towards Quest Buy's exit with her cart and knight, Meredith turned back to see Marco and Higgs one last time. She grinned.

"Just remember, Higgs, that boy is mine, and I'm not sharing him with you anymore after this."

Higgs pulled out a boomerang (made out of what seemed like two steel blades fused together) and threw it at the dark-haired squire. Meredith narrowly dodged it, made a defeated squeaking sound, and hightailed it out of there.

"Oh, trust me, you can have him!" Higgs shouted angrily at her.

Alright, these girls were too much for him. Marco began walking towards his cart. Maybe he could find out where the men's room was and meet Lavabo halfway?

"And where do you think you're going?" Higgs asked. "I _said_ I need to talk to you."

Marco looked around the large complex, pretending that he didn't know Higgs was talking to him. He pointed at himself. "You mean me?"

"Yes, you. 'Marco' isn't exactly a mewman name. Who else in this dimension would I be talking to?"

"Oh, so I guess my name isn't _Prince_ anymore." Marco smirked.

Higgs rolled her eyes. "Ugh. I knew you weren't going to make this easy for me. But this still has to be said, so, let me just say it." The squire closed her eyes in preparation.

"If you're trying to thank me for rescuing you back there, don't bother."

"What!?" The girl opened her eyes, confused.

"Look Higgs, I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, especially if you still hate my guts, and are just putting on another show for me. I didn't grab you to win you over. I grabbed you because we're fellow squires, and saving each other's asses is to be expected from us. There's nothing more to it than that."

Higgs looked slightly surprised. "I… I knew that already. I didn't come here to thank you."

The squire formerly known as 'Prince' lifted an eyebrow. "Oh. I see. You're worried that I'm gonna hold this over your head? Or that I'm gonna tell the other squires I totally saved your life? That would be a major blow to your reputation, right? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. What happens in Quest Buy stays in Quest Buy."

"Will you shut the hell up and just let me say what I was going to say!? You presumptuous asshole!" Higgs shouted.

Marco turned a little red. "Uh, sure. Sorry about that."

Higgs took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize for messing with you this entire night. I realize I went too far in a lot of places, and you really didn't quite deserve that. Especially the stuff with that palm tree outfit. I guess I let things get a bit out of hand. I'm... sorry."

Marco wanted to scoff at her apology, but for some reason... he didn't. There was such a genuine tone to her voice, even more so than how she had acted back at the southern cornfields. Marco was pretty sure she wasn't faking it this time. She was being serious.

"Yeah, uh, heh," Shit! What should he say right now!? "Well… I-I wasn't exactly a perfect angel during this race either," Marco stuttered.

"True enough. I supposed that makes us even," Higgs nodded. "And you're right, I still don't like you that much, but that's _my_ problem. At the very least, you deserve to be here more than, say, someone like Meredith. Plus, I think you held yourself pretty well out there during the race, despite the constant sabotage."

This was so weird. It was like Higgs was implying that Marco had the potential to become a knight...

"So… regardless of what we think of each other, let's just put that aside from now on, and _try_ to work well together when we inevitably have to, for the kingdom's sake." Higgs said. "Are you okay with that?"

Okay? Marco was _more_ than okay with those terms! I mean, yeah, the girl did just admit to still hating his guts, but, speaking honestly, Marco couldn't stand her in return! This way, they would at least reach some sort of compromise, and that was good enough!

"Yeah, that would work for me," Marco said, extending his hand to Higgs. "Truce?"

She grabbed his hand and shook it. "Truce."

In the end, it seemed tonight hadn't turned out as bad as Marco had thought. He hadn't gotten all the knightly equipment, let alone Star's costume, but he had made at least two friends, and, apparently, _not_ actually made an enemy. He would take it one small victory at a time, he supposed.

After letting go of each other's hands, Higgs looked a little embarrassed. "So um, I actually meant to give this to you _before_ apologizing, but better late than never. Just give me a minute." She headed inside one the aisles, and soon returned with a familiar item. Well, 'item' might not have been the best term to describe him…

"Artax Ed!" Marco said, beaming at the tiny horse Higgs held in her arms.

"Yeah, I figured you might need him, and since I initially stole him from you, it's only fair that I return him," Higgs said.

Marco looked down at the foal and considered Higgs' words. _Did_ they really need him? What was a horse going to do in the Wash anyway? Would he even be happy in a cramped place like that? And if he didn't stay in the Wash, what would be the difference between him and all the other horses in the castle stables?

After all, the war horse was not part of the Wash list, but the knight's gear list. It was more or less a standard list of equipment for a normal knight, but Lavabo, and his specific duties, were _far_ from normal.

Perhaps he could bargain a bit with Higgs...

"I appreciate the thought, Higgs, but, uh, it looks like he's already attached to you," Marco said.

Higgs raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"I mean, look at how comfortable he looks in your arms. He practically views you as his mother," Marco improvised.

"The magic of carrots," she said, deadpan. "I could loan you some, if you're really that concerned about it."

"Well, what if Stabby found out about you giving him to me? I imagine he didn't approve of this? Won't you get in trouble?"

"Oh, don't worry. I got him a heaping pile of new toys. He'll be distracted long enough to completely forget this little guy even existed," Higgs said. "And the fact that he's a living creature has no bearing on Stabby's attention."

"Alright, but," Marco said. "What if instead of Artax, I take something else from your cart? Something more useful to the Wash. We can consider it a trade."

"I see. What exactly would you want?" Higgs asked. Her tone was one of suspicion, although Marco thought it also held a note of curiosity about what the boy was going to say.

Well, 'here goes nothing', he thought. "How about the Vorpal Sword?"

"What!?" the redheaded squire said, sounding beyond offended. "There is no way in this dimension or the next that I'd give you that sword! A weapon of that caliber would be wasted in that dingy washroom."

"Higgs, you're forgetting that, because of you and your goons, my knight and I are now left with subpar equipment, which is going to make the rest of this year quite difficult for us. Don't you think you kind of owe it to me? Plus, I saved your life for crying out loud!"

"What would you even use it for? Slaying wrinkles? Vanquishing stains?" she protested.

Oh, right! Higgs, like most everyone else, didn't know about the true nature of the Wash. For all Marco knew, it might be the most dangerous place in the kingdom. But, to the rest of Mewni, it was nothing more than 'a dingy washroom'. Arguing otherwise would require a long explanation. One which was, also, unlikely to be believed under present circumstances. Instead, Marco offered an alternate rebuttal.

"I mean, what can we use a _horse_ for?"

"That's not the point!" Higgs argued back, outraged. "You grabbed him in the first place. I was just trying to be nice and give him back to you. I earned that sword fair and square!"

Marco rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Forget I asked. I'll gladly take Artax Ed back from you."

"Fine! Take him!" She nearly threw the tiny creature at Marco. "But _if_ Sir Stabby ever does ask, I am now just going to tell him it was stolen. So it's up to you to make sure he doesn't see you with it. Also, next time you want to make a 'trade,' I suggest you offer something of equal value, instead of trying to screw over the other person entirely."

Marco was now holding Artax in his arms. "What do I even have that you'd trade the sword for?"

"Your dimensional scissors?" Higgs suggested without hesitation.

"Ha! Yeah right! There's no way I'd give those away! Not even for a Vorpal Sword!" Marco retorted.

"And that, _Prince_ , is exactly why I still don't like you. You're one of those people that thinks, because he did the bare minimum, that he should be showered with gifts and praise. You helped the king defend the kingdom from rats? Great, so did the rest of us! Yet you were the only one who had the audacity to think you deserved to be knight just for _trying!_ " Her face, a moment before a picture of fuming fury, turned suddenly into a mocking smirk. "You think Song Day and me tripping you over made you a joke around here? You were a joke ever since Lady Whosit first told us of your audience with the Queen and King. Except, well, the joke was on us, apparently, because somehow you managed to _whine_ your way into becoming a squire!"

Higgs took a step forward then, getting directly on Marco's face. She was back at 'fuming fury'. She held an accusing finger right in front of his nose.

"Or, remember how you were acting cool just a second ago, saying that saving my life was just part of the job? 'Saving each other's asses is to be expected'? No need for thanks? Then, the moment it's _convenient_ for you to do so, you try to use that fact for leverage, for _corn_ damned blackmail! You put it forth as one of your many half-assed reasons why I should give you the shit I earned, _for free_."

The angry redhead took a step back then, turned around, and began pacing between her cart and the boy, as she kept going with her rant.

"You know? I can see now why our royal fuckup of a princess crushed so hard on you. Your standards for people are so fucking low that, hanging around you, even she must've felt constantly validated. Doing her damn job for once was probably enough for you to be proud of her. Never mind the fact that she and the Queen had left us for dead for a whole week!" she yelled, punching a nearby shelf with the side of her fist. "That business with losing the Book of Spells? Meh, water under the bridge. It all worked out in the end, right? No one _that matters_ got hurt, so why should they face consequences for their reckless actions?"

Marco was dumbfounded. He had never thought of it that way. Not that he agreed with Higgs' assessment, specially not when it came to Star! But, well, if the other squire truly felt like that, then it spoke volumes that she was willing to give him back his horse, and declare a truce, before. He briefly considered trying to defend himself this time around, but, given how angry the girl seemed right now, it would probably only make things worse...

Higgs took a stabilizing breath. "Look, the truce stands. I am still willing to work with you, _Prince_ , but that doesn't mean I have to like you. Just... do your job, and I'll do mine."

She turned around and, without so much as a goodbye, left Marco standing there, holding Artax Ed, wishing that he had remembered a certain adage about not looking at a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

As soon as the princess entered her room, she plopped down on her bed immediately.

"Ugh! Finally! Home, sweet home!" Star said to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

She felt sore from all the stuff she had done that day. Restoring a kingdom to its former glory took a lot of energy out of her, and, to make matters worse, her home just so happened to be big enough that it made even the process of retreating to her own room yet another daunting task. Whose idea had it been to build a castle with quite so many stairs!?

Sigh. Star missed having dimensional scissors _so much_. It made getting from place to place super easy. Although, in a sense, it may have made traveling _too_ easy. Easy enough to take a toll on her stamina. After having used them as her primary means of long distance transportation for a full year, it was hard to adjust to, once again, living life without them.

It was so weird. Despite accomplishing so much as a princess these last few months, physically speaking, Star felt like she had regressed a little. Her life went by at a much slower pace and, now that the Monster attacks had stopped entirely, she no longer felt like the strong 'Warrior Princess' she had proclaimed herself to be a year ago. In fact, she was now constantly tired, and, often times, she somehow woke up even sorer and more exhausted than she had gone to sleep.

Working alongside her mother, Star now experienced a different side of royalty, one that valued social skills, diplomacy, and a disciplined mastery of magic, over raw strength. She wondered how her mom managed to stay in shape through it all. Where would you even find the time to exercise with such a packed schedule?

Star looked over and noticed Glossaryck, sleeping soundly by the corner like a cozy dog. He hadn't left that spot since this morning. The blond girl envied him a little. Still, and despite it being so late already, she wanted to do at least one fun thing for herself before closing off the day.

Maybe a quick run through the Forest of Certain Death was just the thing she needed? The venomous death-moths were always fun to try and outrun. And, even if that didn't work out, the adrenaline rush of combing the ground for a purification leaf would definitely be enough for an adequate workout.

The girl jumped up from her bed, and then heard the sound of a portal opening.

"Marco?"

By the time Star turned around, all she saw was Marco's letter for the night. Geez! He was always so fast with those scissors. He could at least keep the vortex open long enough to say 'hi' once in a while!

The princess picked up the envelope and opened it. She took out the small sheet containing Marco's letter.

 _Hey Star._

 _I'm really sorry about your Aunt Syrma. I won't pretend I knew her or anything, but from what Lavabo told me, she didn't seem like the type to hold grudges. It's a hard truth, but it's impossible to be there for every single person in your life, especially when they're in a demanding position like yours. Your attention's been on your people who've been hurt the most by Toffee's attack, and I think Syrma understood that, and was even proud of you for it._

 _Also, I'm sorry, but I wasn't able to get you the palm tree outfit today. The Squire Blowout was a hectic ordeal, and I just couldn't get to it in time. Turns out I'm still a far way off from being a pro at this stuff. I'll try to make it up to you somehow._

 _Besides that, I made some new friends, got a horse, and apparently joined a band, so it wasn't too too bad._

 _Alright. Time for bed. Gotta wake up early tomorrow. See ya._

 _Marco, Prince of the Wash_

Star turned the paper around, but to her surprise, that was all there was to tonight's letter.

The letter was super short, the handwriting was poor, the grammar was somewhat sloppy, and there were hardly any tangents, which were usually a Marco-staple.

Instead of being disappointed, however, the princess smiled.

She could tell Marco was exhausted from the Squire Blowout and, knowing him, felt super crummy about not getting the palm tree outfit for her. Despite that, he still went out of his way to write her a letter before passing out.

They were both in new environments. Star was in the period of growing into her royal responsibilities, and Marco was dealing with the unrelenting life of a squire. Yet they were both trying their best!

It sucked that they hadn't been able to see each other in a while, but Star was happy they could support each other with these letters. First thing tomorrow, Star was gonna write the most motivational letter she could muster!

More determined than ever, the princess stormed out of her room, planning to do a quick run before tackling tomorrow.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Not much to say on this one. Hope you guys enjoyed this arc. This story is turning out to be such a monster to write for, and it most likely won't be finished well after the show proper reaches its conclusion. haha oh well.**

 **Thanks again for all the supportive comments. You guys are great for sticking by even after these long hiatuses:D**


	11. Chapter 11: Once More Unto the Breeches

When Marco first heard Lavabo warn him about garment goblins, laughing jovially as he did, on his first day squiring for the Wash, he had thought the old knight was making a joke. After a few weeks down here though, he really - _really_ \- ought to have reevaluated that assessment.

It all had begun, as most things did, with socks. Ugh. Speaking about getting used to thinking like Lavabo! But no, seriously, it had really started with socks. Or, rather, it had started when the squire of the Wash noticed a tiny furry creature dragging a single sock out of washing machine number forty-three-O-five.

The furry critter looked like a cross between a miniature person and a normal size bat, except that the fuzzy fur covering its body was olive green, not black. It had seemed non-threatening enough, at first. Marco, again, should have known better. It wore a tiny red cap, and appeared to be exerting itself just to haul even a single sock. It stuck its minuscule tongue out to one side and up, maneuvering it around an even tinier fang, a frown of concentration on its diminutive face.

No sooner had Marco noticed the first creature, however, that another just like it emerged from the very same place, carrying a second sock. A second _unmatching_ sock, to be precise.

Then he saw a third, fourth, and fifth sock-carrying lilliputian, all emerging from that same washer and heading away from it in the same direction.

"Sir Lavabo," called out Marco, as he began taking away the socks from the would be sock burglars. "I think you might want to see this!"

No sooner did the squire call out that the machine to the left of that first one burst open, and then the machine two doors to the right, and another further away, and another, and another. Soon, entire armies of the green furry critters were marching out of washing machines. All carrying socks, not two of them alike.

"Marco Diaz!" Sir Lavabo shouted back. "It seems we have become the target of an infestation of sock silkies. An abundant and vile type of garment goblin, dedicated to the loathsome infamy of stealing always but one sock out of a pair!"

Marco wondered, for a second, if they didn't have some of these back on Earth as well.

"Not to worry, however, for they are easily dissuaded," the knight continued. "Go fetch a spray bottle or two of a one-eight solution of B.C.T., a wet mop, and the bucket of holding, if you please."

As he said that, Sir Lavabo came out running towards the aisle his squire was in, just as Marco himself raced the other way to fetch the detergent solution bottles. In lieu of the spray, the old knight began grabbing the tiny creatures by the legs, one by one, carefully removing the sock, twirling their small bodies in the air three times around his head, and tossing them to the ground.

"Makes the fell things lose their sense of direction," he explained.

The old knight was followed around by the newest member of the Wash, Artax Ed Diaz, who enthusiastically, albeit rather ineffectively, _pranced_ at the tiny goblins. Once in a while, however, the young colt would help its master out, using its teeth to tug a sock away from the invaders' grasp.

As Marco returned with the requested supplies, it transpired that the standard countermeasure to sock silkies was to spray them with the diluted B.C.T. - that is, the Beholder's Cleansing Tears (™) detergent - which caused them to either pass out or wander around in a confused daze. After that, it was easy enough to mop the little guys up into the bucket of holding. Then, after making sure to retrieve any stolen socks, a whole bucket-load of silkies could be thrown out of the Wash at once.

"Um, Sir Lavabo, thrown out where, though?" asked Marco, somewhat unsure if simply tossing the critters out of the pick up window would do much good. What happened after they recovered from the effects of the magical cleansing agent?

"Ah, Marco Diaz, you may, of course, flush them down into the sewers below," suggested the old man, as he ran around spraying the never ending armies of tiny sock burglars.

"Wouldn't that, you know… drown them?" Marco asked. Whatever these things were, they didn't look like a threat, not in the same way that, say, the lint monster had been. Plus, Marco had the vague impression of having heard them communicate with one another, in a sort of high pitched unintelligible chatter. "They seem kind of, I dunno... intelligent."

"Marco Diaz, these are _monsters_ , monsters that steal _socks_ ," Lavabo noted, as if that alone justified killing them.

Monsters? Like 'lint catcher monster' monsters? Or like Buff Frog and Katrina monsters? Marco wondered. Nah, it couldn't be the second one. Could it? Would Lavabo really flush sentient beings down the toilet for the mere act of stealing socks?

Of course, mewmans didn't generally think much of monsters. And Lavabo, well, Lavabo was a good man, one of the best, but he certainly had a blind spot or two when it came to prioritizing _anything_ above his job in the Wash…

"Sir Lavabo, may I ask, where do sock silkies usually live?" Marco asked, firmly. Maybe he was worrying about nothing, and perhaps these creatures weren't any more human - or mewman - than a poltergown or a dust ghoul. But, just in case, he wasn't about to go waterboarding a bunch of intelligent creatures over the crime of stealing clothing!

"Ah, well, Marco Diaz, although I appreciate your curiosity, perhaps this is not the best time," the knight replied. He swiped a prodigious strike with his mop, throwing a dozen of the tiny goblins up into the air and directly into Marco's bucket of holding, while snatching the socks out of them in mid air with his other hand. "If you must know, however, these creatures hail from the Forest of Probable Itchiness."

Marco nodded. Unlike the Forest of Certain Death, the Forest of Probable Itchiness was not a place he had been to before. But Star had shown him a map of Mewni more than once, back on Earth, and so, he thought he knew enough about its location to make this work.

He took out his dimensional scissors and focused on the image of the map of Mewni. He pictured the river running from the mountains south of the Butterfly Kingdom, towards the Pigeon Kingdom. He thought of the forest along that river, and opened a portal in the air. He threw the bucketful of sock silkies through the twirling vortex.

That was when things took a turn for the worse.

Before he had a chance to close the portal, three motorbikes came flying out, knocking Marco back onto the floor. The motorbikes, thankfully, were roughly the size of an Earth tricycle, and, atop each, rode a fat short wrinkled humanoid creature with a bushy red beard, wearing sunglasses. They laughed raucously as they raced pass him and into the halls of the Wash.

"Leatherjacket leprechauns!" exclaimed Lavabo.

Behind them, through the portal, jumped in a dozen or so black furry creatures, similar to the sock silkies but five times the size. This meant, more specifically, that they reached up to just below Marco's waist. They were completely naked and seemed very high strung.

After those, came another crowd of what looked to be gnomes - as in, actual garden gnomes - but obviously feral. They crawled on all fours and sniffed around, grunting vaguely and scratching their red caps with their hind legs. And, just like the black furry creatures, the gnomes were also completely buck naked! Behind _them_ , followed even more of the green sock silkies.

"Breeches boggarts! Knickers gnomes!" shouted Lavabo. "Marco Diaz, what have you done? Sound the alarm, the Wash is under invasion!"

What followed was pure pandemonium. Marco was barely able to close the portal in time, before the three biker leprechauns, now wearing one hydra hide coat and two separate leather armor cuirasses, made off with their ill gotten garments. In all fairness to the creatures, those outfits looked pretty damn cool as biker jackets - even when worn by a creature as tall as Marco's knees - but, more importantly, they most certainly didn't belong to them!

He and Lavabo found themselves running all over the Wash, pursuing the biker leprechauns, trying to spray B.C.T. on the rest of the gobbling rabble before they made off with any other stolen clothes.

The breeches boggarts mostly got themselves inside the legs of pants, one on each side, and began jumping in perfect synchronized movements. It was a bizarre sight, to see pairs of pants walking all by themselves, looking full only three quarters of the way up through the legs, and slack after that. More than once, Marco turned around to fight another one of the annoying monsters, only to have a boggart-filled pair of pants kick him in the, well, breech, and then flee in the opposite direction.

Not to speak of the knickers gnomes! Those were the worst! Not because they were fast, or aggressive. But because the sight of a tiny naked elderly man, running away on all fours, carrying a pair of panties in its mouth, and smiling lecherously, was something Marco hadn't ever wanted to see, even once. Now he was forced to see the pervy dwarfs constantly, as he fought them over pair after pair of unmentionables.

After an hour of running around, brandishing a mop and the spray bottle, Marco was feeling exhausted. Artax Ed, the Wash's noble steed, was being chased around by one of the biker leprechauns, which, mounted atop its signature ride, easily towered over the baby horse. Sir Lavabo, for his part, had been taken prisoner by vastly superior numbers of sock silkies and breeches boggarts, and was now tied to a drier machine by multiple woven scarfs.

Marco had made multiple attempts to reach his mentor already, but the area was swarming with the various furry creatures. They danced around their captive, waving socks, pants, and even shirts, shouting wildly. Whenever the human boy tried charging in, the annoying silkies would try to trip him down, as the boggarts attempted to tie him up as well. The squire was having a hard enough time keeping himself free of their clutches, let alone helping the old knight.

"Sir, I can't reach you! Are you sure you can't just break free!?" Marco shouted, finally.

"Alas, I cannot, Marco Diaz!" Sir Lavabo shouted in return. "It would damage the stitching!"

The human boy was retreating now, slowly, mop in hand, back to the Wash's service closet. Sweat ran down his forehead, and the bottle of Beholder Tears solution, just like the squire, was all but depleted.

Well, that's what he got for trying to help the tiny creatures out, for trying to be humane. Fine! No more mister nice guy!

Marco doubled back into the supplies closet. When he emerged, he was holding a bright golden and red bag, and a fistful of shimmering gold powder. "Alright, garment goblins! Can you understand me?"

The bizarre tiny monsters didn't seem to even hear him. They kept at it, running around, stealing clothes, and misplacing them around the Wash. Without the portal, and with all the entrances long closed by Sir Lavabo and his squire, they had nowhere to go, but that didn't mean they couldn't make a mess.

Marco frowned, and threw the fistful of powder right in front of him, careful not to actually hit any of the goblins.

A bright crimson bonfire exploded before him, with a thunderous roar of flames. The sock silkies looked up from their socks. The breeches boggarts peeked out of their pants. The knickers gnomes opened their mouths in surprise, letting the knickers they were masticating fall to the ground. Even the leatherjacket leprechauns stopped their bikes in place and silently gawked at the squire.

"So. Do. You. _All_. Understand me?!" Marco asked, furiously.

He saw a sea of tiny faces nod in response.

" _Good_. Look, I'd rather not have to use these today. But I will, if I have to!" he threatened, shaking another fistful of Phoenix Flakes their way. "Drop the clothes, form an orderly file, and get the hell out of our washroom!"

As he spoke, he cut another portal besides him. This time, the portal opened up above the Forest of Probable Itchiness. Low enough that the light creatures shouldn't get hurt by the fall, but high enough that no more of them should be able to cross back into the Wash through it. One by one, with some prodding, the tiny pests started marching out.

"No, no, drop the sock," he hit a silkie with his mop on the way out.

"That's not yours! Out of the bike, out of the jacket. Walk. Slowly." he threatened a leprechaun with the Phoenix Flakes detergent until it took the cuirass off and stepped into the portal, guiding its empty bike by the handle.

"No pants, no furnace," he threatened a boggart sternly. Internally, however, he felt quite proud of his own pun, even if it was a bit too dark for his usual taste.

Fortunately, it seemed he had managed to get rid of the goblin army, without actually having to go ahead and murder any of them. Marco exhaled a breath of relief. He had, in the end, solved the problem… that he himself had created.

He looked back at his mentor, sheepishly. "Sorry about the mess, Sir. If I had just flushed out that first batch of goblins, none of this would have happened." he apologized.

Sir Lavabo, however, was beaming at his squire from within his woven bind.

"On the contrary, Marco Diaz, your resourcefulness in dealing with the consequences of your own choices is only to be commended. Your compassion, too, speaks volumes of your nobility," the old knight insisted. "A creature that can be cowed by the fear of death is one that deserves an opportunity to repent, and thus avoid such fate. Even one so vile as to steal socks! I'll keep that lesson in mind in my interactions with the fiends in the future. However… I am afraid the job is not quite finished…"

It was just then that Marco noticed what Sir Lavabo was talking about. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny naked old man make a break for it. The lone knicker gnome was galloping towards the portal, on all fours, holding a pair of panties in its mouth. Not just any pair. These were small green cotton panties, with a bright cartoony yellow star in the middle. They could be literally anyone's! Marco thought, as he blushed.

The squire of the Wash dropped the bag of detergent, grabbed hold of his mop with both hands and placed himself directly between the racing gnome and the portal. "Oh no, you don't!"

He swung at the creature, but it jumped high into the air, avoiding the mop entirely. Marco then struck the ground with the wooden handle, using it as a vaulting pole to propel his own body to the thief's altitude.

"Ky-ya!" he shouted, as he reached out and grabbed the undergarment.

Despite the squire's triumph in seizing back the stolen item, the creepy gnome's mouth remained firmly attached to it, biting furiously into the fabric. After landing back on his feet, Marco swung the piece of underwear around his head three times. On the final spin, the gnome let go. Marco swung around a kicked the tiny old man straight into the portal.

"Yes!" he shouted, triumphantly. "Sir Lavabo, look! I got them!"

"Woah, Marco, didn't know you were into that sort of thing," came a mocking voice behind him.

For a split second, Marco had assumed there was yet another garment goblin, one that was capable of speech. In all honesty, after he had a second to recognize the voice, he would have much preferred that to be the case.

The squire turned around and confirmed his fears. The brown boots, the olive green beanie, the yellow skirt, the turquoise jacket. Several articles of clothing that seemed very normal and nonthreatening in isolation. But when those things combined together, they formed a creature more fearsome than anything the Wash had thrown at Marco up until now.

That creature of course being: Janna Freaking Ordonia.

The Earth girl stood there expectantly, wearing a cocky smile and waiting for Marco to respond to her comment. Of course, there wasn't a single thing the squire could say in response to her sneering remark that wouldn't make him look like an idiot, a klutz, a pervert, or a combination of the three.

Thankfully, Janna was kind enough to continue the conversation herself, although not exactly in a way that let the poor boy off the hook. "Look, Marco, holding that around like it's your trophy is just creepy. I mean, I don't go around stealing _your_ underwear. Diary? Sure. Wallet? I am not saying I don't. Toenails? Once or twice. But, underwear? That's plain gross, man."

The squire gently placed the underwear on the ground. "Janna, this is seriously not what it looks like, I was just fighting a bunch of underpants-stealing gnomes and… wait… _toenails_!?"

Before the conversation could go any further, Lavabo forced a cough.

"Marco Diaz, I am not sure what kind of long and perplexing relationship you have with this young lady, so perhaps introductions are in order?" the old knight said, still stuck to the drier.

"Yeah, um, alright. But first let's get you out of those scarfs, Sir." Marco walked over to his mentor and began meticulously unraveling the knots that bound him to the machine.

Every few seconds the squire would glance over at Janna, who'd give him a devilish grin in return. It didn't take more than a minute or two before Lavabo was set free. What was more surprising, however, was that their visitor behaved herself, for at least that long.

"Ah, thank you Marco Diaz." Lavabo collected the several scarfs. "Thanks to you, these irreplaceable mufflers remain unharmed, although with your very delicate fingers, I'd expect nothing less."

Janna snorted. "Well, a soldier's most important attribute is the delicateness of his tiny fingers, so I'm glad our knight Marco here has that covered in spades."

Lavabo lifted an eyebrow at the girl, quizzically, before smiling at her. "Marco here is indeed an impressive young lad, but I would not say he is knight material quite yet. He still has many trials ahead of him before such a promotion is even considered!"

"Oh, really…?" Janna said in an exaggerated tone, before giving Marco a look. She clearly saw the squire make an X-shape with his arms, cluing her to shut the hell up. But, well, when did the girl ever shut up when she needed to? "Cause I remember Marco saying he was this great knight of Mewni for the entire summer. Could that have been-" she faked a gasp. "-a lie!"

Lavabo laughed heartily. "Perish the thought. The Marco I know would never resort to such boastful bragging. I believe the more logical explanation is that you simply misheard him the entire summer," he said without an ounce of sarcasm.

Marco wanted to hide in his hoodie. The slightest reminder of how he acted that summer already put him on edge, but the fact that Lavabo's opinion of him was so high that he refused to believe Janna's story somehow made him feel even worse.

" _Riiiight_ ," Janna said. "Of course Marco would never lie about something like that. Just like he'd never ditch his girlfriend to go hang out for the summer with the girl who just confessed to him, only to _then_ never even acknowledge that confession. That's definitely not a series of things Marco would do," she declared, keeping a straight face throughout.

Okay, that last part was plainly unfair! That had nothing to do with being a knight, or anything else they had been talking about, for that matter!

"I'm not sure I follow…" Lavabo said.

Before Janna could elaborate, Marco got in between the two of them. "Janna, this was a fantastic surprise and all, and I'd love to catch up with you, really, but we're going to have to put a rain check on it. The Wash is a complete mess right now and we're _way_ behind schedule. I really shouldn't waste any more time." It was the best excuse he could come up with.

Marco then felt a strong hand grab his shoulder from behind. Lavabo's hand, to be exact. "Urgent the situation may be, Marco Diaz, but no amount of work ahead of us should strip us of a hard-earned meal. Why don't you take an early lunch today? That should give you two an adequate amount of time to catch up, while I get started on this mess."

"Ugh, sure, why not?" the squire said in surrender, having a hard time hiding his annoyance. Though to be fair, this at least meant that Janna would be away from Lavabo, so it should be fine, right?

"Yeah, that works for me," Janna said. "Although, before we go, one of us should close that portal, right?"

She pointed at the single portal connecting the Wash to the Forest of Probable Itchiness. Marco had forgotten all about it due to Janna's intrusion.

The squire walked over and pinched the bottom tip of the portal. Then, like a zipper, he pulled his hand across it and closed it shut. It wasn't the only way to close a dimensional portal, but Marco kinda liked the sensation of closing it physically every now and then. It felt like putting your hand in a stream.

"Star told me that if you let portals linger for too long, a crazy red-head will come and close it for you. Haven't tested it myself, but is it true?" Janna asked.

Marco was about to ask how Janna knew about Higgs, until he realized that she must have been referring to the _other_ crazy red-headed girl he knew who disliked lingering portals. "Yeah, pretty much. But what do you mean by 'testing it' yourself?"

The girl wasted no time answering his question. She held out her own pair of dimensional scissors for Marco, and even Lavabo, to gawk at.

Marco recognized the design immediately. The scissors had jaggy blades and pure white handles set in the shape of a skull. There was a name inscribed on them, but it was written in some Monster language the squire couldn't translate. Marco highly doubted it spelled the previous owner's name.

Lavabo whistled. "My, the new generation is a formidable one indeed."

"It's not what you think, Sir," Marco said defensively, not wanting him to think that just _anyone_ could complete one of Hekapoo's quests. "Those scissors used to belong to Ludo, but he's gone now, so Star must have given them to Janna." That or she stole them from the princess...

"Yup," Janna confirmed. "She said something about 'wanting to be a better princess,' which I guess is whimsical talk for 'I need to lose all personal freedom and stay chained to my kingdom.' Not that I mind, of course. I mean, dimensional travel _and_ they look badass? Gonna be hard to top that gift."

Marco had to admit, the scissors' design complimented Janna's general interest in the occult pretty well, though it peeved him a little that she got her pair so easily while Marco had to invest sixteen years of hard work to get his. Such was life, he supposed.

"We should get going," Marco said. He turned to Lavabo. "I'll be back in a half hour, Sir."

"Very well, Marco Diaz. Enjoy your lunch and company, but do be punctual. We'll need to reorganize everything and clean it all over again. We can't leave anything undone after six," Lavabo said.

Marco nodded at the old knight and soon the two teenagers made their way towards the Wash's entrance/exit. Said entrance would usually be blocked off by the villager's pile of dirty laundry at this hour, but the morning's chaos had left the clothes sprawled everywhere _but_ the entrance. In this one instance, Marco was grateful for the mess.

"Wait. Why are we taking the stairs? We were _just_ talking about dimensional scissors." Janna said, annoyed.

"And you sound _just_ like a new scissors user. It's nice to use your legs every now and then, you know?" Marco said. "Now come on, there's this cool garden a few floors up where we can enjoy our lunch."

Janna sighed, but she didn't protest any further. They both started walking up the daunting flight of stairs out of the castle's sub-basement, following it as it curved around a central pillar.

In truth, Marco only wanted to kill time by getting to their destination the long way. He was gonna stay true to Lavabo's time limit, and the less time he had to spend actually conversing with Janna, the better. The squire snickered to himself. Even _he_ could be sneaky sometimes.

Marco and Janna kept climbing the stairs for what was probably this day's longest five minutes. An awkward silence loomed over them, but Janna didn't feel like initiating a conversation. It even seemed like she was having trouble keeping up with his pace, though she tried to hide it, clumsily dissimulating her heavy panting and her attempts to support herself on the rail-less pillar. Either way, this was a lot less grueling and uncomfortable for the boy than when he first came down these stairs with Star...

Before too long they arrived at the Royal Garden on the first floor. It was quite a sight to behold. There were all the varieties of flowers you'd see on Earth: roses, daisies, tulips, azaleas, etc. Then there were the ones that Marco wasn't familiar with, and which he was pretty sure were exclusive to Mewni.

There were, for example, bubble-gum blue carnations atop a lilac shrub, with neon pink blossoms right besides. There were clusters of leaves as red as rose petals sprouting reversed green buds in turn. There were tiny yellow bells that sprouted and shriveled and grew back again in an instant, like sparks out of a burning flame. Yet, somehow, that din of color didn't take away from the sheer beauty and majesty of this place. Quite the opposite, actually.

Plus, none of the flowers seemed capable of eating people, a feature the young squire had learned to appreciate when it came to inter-dimensional vegetation.

As the two sat together on a marble bench, Marco realized he'd forgotten to bring his lunch with him. That is, he _pretended_ to just realize that.

"Oops, looks like I left my corn back down there," Marco said, trying to act surprised while peeping at his watch. Twenty-two minutes left. "Sorry Janna, I'll hop back there with the scissors real quick, but who knows how long it'll take for me to find it in that mess..."

Janna rolled her eyes. "Leave the fibbing to the professionals, Marco. _Luckily_ , I got you covered."

The girl made a small incision in the air with her scissors. She reached inside and grabbed two brown bags that had a familiar logo on them. The sight of them made Marco, momentarily, forget all about his plan to ditch his otherwise unwelcome guest.

"Oh God! You got me Britta's?" The squire's mouth was already watering.

Janna gave Marco his bag and he tore it open with unrestrained _primal_ force. He couldn't help it. The squire hadn't had normal Earth food in so long that he forgot how much he missed it. He got even more excited once he saw the meal: A Guaca _melee_ Steak and Eggs Britta-rito(™)! He wasted no time biting into it.

"Janna, this was actually really awesome of you. Thank you!" Marco managed to say between bites of burrito, chunks of it still in his mouth as he spoke.

Janna smiled nonchalantly. "No problem."

It took Marco a while before he was even able to continue the conversation, lost as he was in waking dreams of cheese, steak, and soft wheat flour. Janna sat there, silent, without even opening her own lunch, staring amused at the voracious squire, as he gulped down huge bites of meat, egg, and beans.

Normally, he'd be a lot more self-conscious about something like that, specially around company. But, hey, it was just Janna, after all. Besides, it had been weeks since he last had a meal that was anything less than three-quarters corn. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed Earth cuisine, and its broad diversity of non-corn flavors!

Eventually, though, Marco figured he might as well ask. Better get it done and over with and all that. He covered his burrito-filled mouth as he spoke. "Ok, so, uhm… what's the catch?"

"The catch?" Janna asked innocently.

"Yes, the catch," Marco repeated. "Look, you show up here, out of nowhere, and are actually being, well… less of a pain than you usually are, no offence…"

"None taken," she shrugged.

"...my point is, Janna," Marco continued. "What do you want?"

The girl made a whole show out of thinking through, or pretending to think through, her answer to the question. Finally, she placed her left thumb under her own chin and added, "Nothing comes to mind."

Marco rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that. You're always after _something_."

Janna blinked. "Fine, I'll admit it: I was a bit curious about how you were doing, Marco. Beats sitting in class with an unused pair of dimensional scissors. Besides, I would have thought you'd like to know how everyone else is doing," she pointed out. "You know, back home?"

She had a good point, actually. Marco did wonder, sometimes, how his friends and family were all doing back at Echo Creek. Not to mention, well… Jackie.

"Um, ok, Janna, you're right, of course. I'm sorry for accusing you of having ulterior motives, when you really just wanted to catch up," he apologized.

The sentiment went wholly unacknowledged. Instead, the troublemaker looked boredly at her own lunch bag, poking it without having even taken out the food.

"Ok, so…" Marco finally continued. "How _is_ everyone?"

"Everyone who?" Janna asked, like she had forgotten the entirety of the conversation so far.

"Everyone back in Echo Creek!" Marco replied, irritated.

"You'll have to be more specific," she shrugged.

"Fine," Marco grumbled. "How about Ferguson and Alfonzo?"

"Out of the closet. They are a thing now. Not that anybody at school was surprised by that news," she replied, without lifting her eyes from the closed lunch bag.

Marco looked shocked at the girl. Well, ok, it was not exactly _implausible_ , now that he thought about it. Still, he had the feeling that she was pulling his leg. He most certainly would've heard about something as big as _that_ , from either of his two friends.

"Um. StarFan?" he continued.

"Starting therapy," she explained. "Been doing her some good, she is even back to using her real name now. I honestly thought she was going to jump off of a bridge or something after Star left Earth."

Well, that was morbid! Leave it to Janna to turn a positive development into an unsettling thought. There was no way it was _that_ bad! StarFan was just a quirky kid. Maybe a bit of talking to Mr. Candle, or whatever, was not a bad idea, sure, but that didn't mean she was going to kill herself over her idol leaving school. Still, good to know StarFan, or, uh, Pauline, was doing better.

"Oskar?"

"Still awful at music, but suddenly seems to be taking classes seriously. No idea why."

"Brittney?"

"Planning her birthday party for this week, but freaking out because everyone is expecting Star to be there like last year."

"Miss Skullnick?"

"New boyfriend."

"My parents?"

"Well, Angie is pregnant," she said, detachedly.

Ok, now Marco was _sure_ she was pulling his leg! Likely, every single thing she had said so far had been a complete fabrication, designed to get a laugh at his expense. But, come on, he was not _that_ gullible!

Still, he had to ask. Didn't he? He took a deep breath, and… "Jackie?"

There was a beat of silence, in which Janna didn't say a word, she didn't even keep poking her lunch bag. Instead, she straightened up, looked at Marco in the eyes, and then, completely avoiding the topic, said, "so, I think the real question is: why are you still here?"

"Uh?" Marco was taken aback by the non sequitur. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought the whole reason you wanted to come back to Mewni was so that you could enjoy that sweet, sweet knighthood life you thought you had earned. Which I totally get, by the way," she observed. "But, since it turns out you were never a knight to begin with, and Star's dad was just banking on you to never take his offer of knighthood seriously, _and_ you don't even get to hang out with Star any more, _and_ you have other squires bullying you six ways to Sunday…"

"Wait a second" Marco protested. "How do you even know all that!? Did Star tell you?" If that had been the case, then he was actually a bit annoyed at his best friend. Sure, he'd been writing her letters about his struggles down in the Wash, and about what had happened at the Squire Blowout. But, well, Marco thought she understood that stuff was supposed to be private!

"Look, Marco, that doesn't matter," remarked Janna. "What matters is that I am bored out of my skull without the two of you back home! Meanwhile you are stuck here, being a laundry squire, and getting crap from people who _aren't_ me. Fortunately, I can think of one way to fix both issues!"

Uh oh, here it came. So much for not having ulterior motives. Marco mentally rescinded his apology!

Janna took out her ugly, twisted, dimensional scissors, and pointed at them. She then raised an eyebrow and shot him a conspiratorial smile.

"We can go anywhere in the multiverse now, we can go adventuring, like you used to do with Star," she explained. "We both have scissors, and it's not like I have stayed on Earth all this time, but, still, safety in numbers and all that. Plus, you must know a few interesting places by now, 'Safe Kid'."

That was a pretty tempting offer, actually, even if it would entail hanging out with Janna a lot more often. Marco would have been lying if he said that he didn't miss going on inter-dimensional adventures. It wasn't like that was really more dangerous than working at the Wash, and it certainly provided more of a change of scenery, not to mention far less in the way of repetitive and arduous labor. So, well…

"No."

The girl seemed genuinely surprised at his response. "No?"

"I mean, thanks for the offer Janna, but, well, I think Sir Lavabo needs me down here, today especially," he said, thinking about the mess he had caused. "But, more than that, I think _I_ need this. This place isn't always easy, and it is pretty thankless sometimes, _and_ maybe it's not what I would have picked for myself, if I had known… but, I think it's genuinely making me a better person."

"Ugh. You sound like Star," Janna huffed.

She had probably meant it as a complaint, but Marco smiled at the compliment.

"Okay, then how about we only go somewhere during nights?" Janna suggested. "I'll head here after school, and once you're done with all that thankless Wash business, we can go crazy and let loose in some bacon dimension."

"I'd be willing to do that, say, once a month, and it'd probably have to be during one of my days off, but there's no way I could do that _every_ night," Marco protested. "Also, we couldn't go anywhere that is _too_ dangerous. If I accidentally break a bone or something, I wouldn't be able to do my job well."

Marco had thought he had come up with a decent compromise, but his words only made the girl give him an even greater look of disappointment. She then looked at her Britta's bag in contemplation.

"Fine. Let's do this the hard way then." She rummaged through her bag and pulled out several papers. The girl had still not eaten anything, and Marco was beginning to suspect that she had never packed lunch for herself to begin with. She held the documents out for him to see.

"Hey! Those are my foreign exchange student papers!" the squire exclaimed in recognition. "How did you get those?"

The frown Janna had been slowly developing turned, briefly, into a smile. "You know, Marco? No matter how many times you say those exact five words to me, it somehow never gets old."

The girl scooted over to the far side of the bench, most likely to prevent Marco from simply grabbing the papers from her. She took her time flipping through the documents.

"I gotta say, even for a first attempt at forgery, this is pretty sloppy craftsmanship. You literally just took Star's papers from last year and replaced all the names. Even the signatures from the involved parties have the same handwriting. Only in Echo Creek Academy could you get away with this…"

"W-what are you going to do with those?" Marco asked cautiously.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I'll perform a good deed and go over these a bit more carefully with Principal Skeeves. That would be quite... honorable, wouldn't it? Unless you're able to convince me not to," Janna explained.

"What!? You're blackmailing me!? This is a new low, even for you, Janna!"

"Actually," Janna pointed out. "It really isn't. So what will it be, Marco? Is prolonging this lame attempt at an ego-boost really worth the possibility of expulsion? Think of all the fun we could be having instead."

"Fine!" Marco yelled. He stood up, but made no motion towards the papers. He did wonder if, after weeks in the Wash, and many more months of experience with dimensional scissors than Janna, perhaps he would be able to take those from her this time. He found out that, on the whole, he didn't care. "Go ahead. Tell him."

"What!?" Janna asked, shocked.

"Yes, Janna, just, tell him. Tell everyone if you want to," Marco sighed. "Like you said, it would be the honorable thing to do. I shouldn't have lied to come here in the first place."

"So, does that mean you _are_ coming back?" asked the girl, uncertain. She was giving him the strangest look, like he had turned into another person right before her eyes.

"No, I am staying here until the year is done," Marco clarified. "I'll go back next summer, and deal _then_ with the consequences of my actions. If you are telling my parents too, please also tell them that I am very sorry about what I did."

"Why!?" Janna spat in response, visibly frustrated. "Star has already moved on from Earth, why can't you move on from Mewni?"

That hit hard. For a second, the squire wondered if she was right, after all. Did he really belong here? Or was he still just living his fantasies, albeit in a scaled down form, escaping Earth for Mewni the same way she was inviting him to escape across the multiverse with their scissors. He thought about Higgs, about how she had told him he was just an entitled brat playing squire. But, then again, that's not how Sir Lavabo saw him, or Lady Jaya, or Nicholas, or Timore. Marco thought of them and decided that he wasn't going to disappoint the people that _did_ believe in him, just to appease those who _didn't_.

"That's not the same," Marco pointed out. "I mean, my transfer papers might be a fake, but my job here is very real. I have a responsibility to deal with the consequences of that too. It's not about living those fantasies of being a knight, or about going back to adventuring with Star. I have moved on from _that_. That's the stuff that brought me here, sure, but now, well… I have stuff that I signed up to do, and I'm gonna see it through."

Janna seemed, for once, at a loss for words.

"Whoa," she exclaimed, eventually. "Marco, um, I think… this is the first time you ever stood up to me."

There was a long moment of silence after that, as Marco just calmly sat back to finish the last few bites of his lunch. He didn't exactly know how to take the girl's comment. Janna herself only looked back and forth between him and the transfer papers, seemingly unsure of what to do as well.

She sighed, took the documents up with both hands, and ripped them in half. She kept shredding them into smaller and smaller pieces, while Marco looked on, somewhat surprised. Then she opened a portal, threw the pieces out, and closed the vortex behind them.

"Those do me no good if you are not coming back anyways," she offered, by way of an explanation. "Well, fine, Marco, you win. Stay, if that's what you really want. But if you are not letting _me_ give you crap, then you _better_ not let anyone else do that either, alright? Particularly not some dumb boring squires."

As she said that, she took an envelope out of her lunch bag. Apparently, there was indeed no actual lunch in there. Marco recognized the stationery on it immediately: it was Star's letter! No wonder he hadn't found it in the mail today!

Janna threw the envelope at Marco. It was already opened.

"Hey!" the boy began to protest. But, by the time he looked up, the girl had cut open a full size portal and was halfway through it.

Marco was left alone, to yell at the rose bushes, if he so chose. He sighed once more. He and Janna had known each other since childhood but, to this day, he didn't know what to make of her. On the plus side, his secret back in Echo Creek was safe, for now. Which meant that he would be able to come clean about that on his own time.

He walked up to the still open portal, and attempted to zip it away with his hand. Apparently Janna wasn't bothering to close this one, probably because she knew he would do it for her. After all, Star had apparently told her about Hekapoo, and not even Janna would be reckless enough to want to provoke her like that. Would she?

The gesture didn't work. Marco's fingers went right through the portal. He tried again, and again, and again. Eventually, he realized he looked like an idiot swiping at the dimensional vortex like a cat pawing at a curtain. Maybe different scissors worked differently? Or, maybe, you could only close your own portals that way? That would make sense, actually. Otherwise, if anyone could just close a portal while you were going through it, that would be an unbelievably dangerous flaw. Now that he thought about it, maybe he ought to get someone to help him test that out with his own portals, just in case.

Still, there was another thing he could try: Marco took out his own scissors, carefully wedged the blades at the upper tip of the portal, and cut down. The offending vortex collapsed as he did that, closing with a satisfying 'pop!'. So there _was_ a danger of someone else closing your portals, then? But only if that person had dimensional scissors of their own? Well, if nothing else had come out of that strange visit, at least he had learned something new just now.

He sat back down, took out Star's letter, and began to read. He didn't have much time left for his lunch break, but, well, he could always take the quick way down.

 _Marco! You'll NEVER believe what happened to me yesterday! I'm positive that once you read these words that I'm about to write, you'll pass out from the shock! So as a disclaimer, please read this while sitting down or while standing next to a pile of dirty laundry. Don't worry, I'll wait._

… _._

 _Geez, Marco, calm down! It's not_ _ **really**_ _that amazing. Why do you have to take things so literally? Forget it, just stay where you are, seriously, you'll be fine. I am sure you've wasted enough time looking for 'the perfect spot' as it is. (winky face emoji)_

 _So yesterday started out like any other day. My mom and I went to the Southern District and had a few homes left to rebuild. We've had supplies delivered to us from the Rich Pigeon kingdom, because for some reason wood is a very difficult element to produce with the wand (I mean, remember that tree I made for Baby? That took A LOT out of me!). I've also been helping the Mewni carpenters build everything from scratch, because I also stink at making stable structures with the wand (Hard Work: 1, Star: 0)._

 _Somehow it works when it's my own room, but everything else… well, it's not quite as bad as what happened to your room, back when I arrived on Earth. Remember that one? Yeah, um, sorry about that, again. But, well, let's just say it never ends well. Or rather, it HADN'T been ending well._

 _Then, out of the blue, Mom asked me to try making the next house out with magic. I was like, "Mama, you_ _ **do**_ _**not**_ _want to see that!" I was serious too, but she just chuckled and said I should have more faith in myself. All the villagers were looking at me and I was so worried I'd mess it all up. But, the unthinkable happened: it worked!_

 _I shouted 'Cozy Home Creation Beam' and aimed it at several stacks of wood, and a two story house manifested from it! Everyone looked so happy, Mom especially. And then, during dinner, she kept bragging about it to Dad and my aunts. It felt like the first time I did something right in her eyes._

 _And, I don't know, it felt nice to make a spell that actually helped people for a change. Don't get me wrong, I love my spells, and they were great for self-defense for when I was on Earth, but after making so many spells that were made to destroy, it was neat to make something that could create for once. I think I might be onto something here. Of course, next time I make a house, I should probably make it without eyes and a tendency to burst into song. Old habits die hard, I guess._

 _And don't worry, I also really, really want to hang out with you one of these days too. Soon, I promise. Things are just really busy right now, today especially… and, well, tomorrow, and… ugh._

 _But, well, what about your day, Marco? I feel like you don't talk about the Wash enough in these letters. I hope it isn't boring! At the very least I hope those mean squires aren't giving you any more trouble! (Angry face emoji)_

 _I know you told me not to get involved. And I am sure Mom would say the same. But, if you want me to narwhal someone, I'll do it! Guess it's kinda bad form to narwhal my own subjects, but, um…_

 _Anyways, you were saying that you felt it was better to take the high road, and be honorable. I guess you're right. Is that really the kind of stuff you've been learning from Lavabo? I guess I never really gave him enough credit, if I am being honest, at least not until fairly recently. Growing up, he was always that strange man that did the laundry, not that doing laundry is bad, or unimportant, or… um, Marco, would you help me move my foot? I think it just got stuck in my mouth._

 _Wait! OH SHOOT! There's a portal in my room right now! DOUBLE SHOOT! It's Janna! WWWWHHHHHHAAAAAATTTT! And now she's giving me a weird look because I'm still writing this instead of talking to her. Alright, I think I should stop before I offend her._

 _Talk to you later Marco!_

 _Star Butterf…_

The signature just ended there, in a long hasty scratch that dragged from the 'f' all the way to the edge of the page. Surely, it was at that moment that Janna had swiped the letter away from Star.

Well, that explained how the other girl knew so much about the squire's job and his interactions with his peers. Marco shook his head, annoyed. Janna really got on his nerves sometimes, particularly with how she always treated his privacy like it was a joke.

On the other hand, Janna notwithstanding, Marco was quite happy to learn that Star was doing well. She was using her magic to help people in a non-martial capacity for once, and even getting some recognition from her mom, _finally!_

Moon and Star certainly had very different personalities, and the queen was someone who had the highest expectations for herself and others, which meant she was always quicker to put demands on the princess than to give out praise. Despite this, Moon cared deeply for her daughter, always had. Marco understood that, and he knew that his bestie did too. But, still, he sometimes felt the queen didn't quite appreciate how amazing Star was.

Sure, she was a little hyper. What with all the instructions to sit down before reading the rest of the letter? And the blank space left accordingly? Well, joke was on her, of course, Marco was _already_ sitting when he started reading the letter! Ha!

Eh. Right. Not the point.

The point was: Star was pretty darn unconventional, and that obviously clashed with prim and proper Queen Moon, but, at the same time, they both cared about their people, and they both had different ways of doing what ultimately was the right thing. Now that they were spending more time together, perhaps they'd realize that they really weren't all that different to begin with, or at least Marco hoped they would.

Of course, that didn't mean Marco didn't miss having the chance to spend time with his bestie! He really, really hoped she was serious about her promise to hang out together sometime soon.

Well, in the meantime, he had his own job to do, and a heck of a mess to clean up after the whole incident with the garment goblins! Like he had told Janna, coming to Mewni, working under Lavabo, might have been the best thing that had happened to Marco since meeting Star, almost a year ago. Sure, it was hard, but, like Star's own duties, it was making him a more responsible person.

Marco took out his dimensional scissors, cut a portal in the middle of the garden, and stepped back into the Wash.

"Ah, yes, Marco Diaz, welcome back," he heard Sir Lavabo exclaim as he rushed pass him carrying a few sacks full of already clean clothes. "There has been, somewhat of a… change in plans."

There was a clear note of concern in the old knight's words. Not only that, but it seemed like almost a quarter of the morning's disaster had already been cleaned up, without Marco's involvement. Had he really spent that long with Janna?

"Um, Sir Lavabo, did I take too long for my lunch break?" he asked, apologetically. "I thought we were going to clean this mess together. I mean, it was my fault that…"

"Ah, yes, yes," the knight confirmed Marco's guilt. No, actually, that wasn't it! Rather, he seemed to ignore the specifics of what his squire had just said, proceeding instead to explain his own actions. "I decided to forgo my own lunch break, and my dinner break, and perhaps half of tonight's sleep if I must. Seeing as how I must now get all these clothes ready by myself."

As Lavabo moved about erratically, the squire noticed Artax Ed sitting by the corner, munching on a cob of corn (or at least what was left of it). Clearly, the old knight was serious about skipping his lunch.

Did that mean Marco wasn't actually needed down here, after all? His whole argument to Janna had banked on the fact that he wasn't here on vacation, that Sir Lavabo actually needed him, that the Wash needed him. But, then again, the old knight had actually been running this place for years - decades, probably, now that Marco thought about it. Had he been overestimating how much he had been contributing? Still, he certainly expected he could be of _some_ help, after spending almost an entire month learning the ropes.

"But, Sir Lavabo, I am here now," Marco reasoned. "Surely it will all go faster if I assist you?"

"Oh, indeed it would, Marco Diaz," the knight agreed, as he rushed to throw a wheelbarrow of shirts down washbucket sixty-seven. "That, however, will not be possible now."

Wait! What? Was Lavabo saying he _shouldn't_ help? Was he… firing him? Had the knight perhaps decided, after either Janna's stories or Marco's own mistakes this morning, that he would be better off without a squire? Marco felt himself begin to hyperventilate.

"Sir Lavabo, I am really sorry about…" the human boy began. Only to be silenced by the impact of a bag full of clean laundry falling squarely in his reflexively raised arms.

"Marco Diaz, it's I who am sorry, to ask this of you," Sir Lavabo interrupted him. "I am afraid that the royal delivery mewman has apparently suffered an encounter with a dangerous deranged outlaw, while out on their last assignment. The man has now barricaded himself at home, and is indisposed to fulfill his duties. This means that all delivery services for the kingdom are, to put it bluntly, out of commission. Thus, it falls on the honor of the Order of the Wash to keep our vows, and deliver on our own all the home service orders due tonight!"

Wait, the Mewni delivery man was out of commission? Wait, there was a single delivery man, for all of Mewni!? That explained why the mail sometimes took so corndamn long around here!

"Normally, I'd just speed up the day's work, close early, and then spend the evening handling all the deliveries myself," the knight continued. "However, given the morning's events, I am afraid that is impossible. In fact, it's now possible that, for the first time in four decades, the Wash shall go into overtime. Thus, with my deepest regret, I must place that burden onto your young shoulders. It is already a grievous failing that today the closing time of the Wash may be violated, but we must not allow the deliveries to be delayed as well. Here is a list, then, with nearly all the deliveries due for the day, omitting only those few that absolutely require my personal attention. Squire Diaz, the Order of the Wash looks upon you, may it do so with favor!"

He then threw the delivery list in Marco's general direction, and without saying another word, returned to his knightly obligations.

Marco felt then, at the same time, a deep rousing pride, and the crushing weight of a sacred duty.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: We kick off 2019 with a new arc!**

 **Well, that and a one month hiatus for all of January before this. Sorry about that, but I am afraid at this point the official schedule for this fic really is "done when it's done". Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait!**


	12. Chapter 12: Deliveries and Deliberations

Marco was a boy on a mission. Nay, a sacred quest! One handed over to him, with the utmost solemnity, by his good friend and mentor, Sir Lavabo.

That the quest in question was simply to deliver clothes was besides the point! The duty of the Wash, thankless as it might be, was in fact vital to the health and safety - not to mention the general scent - of the entire Butterfly Kingdom. While Marco suspected that a delay of a day or two would not actually plunge the kingdom into chaos - nor malodor - he also knew that strict punctuality was a matter of honor for the old knight. Thus, it was also a matter of honor for him!

Marco wanted to uphold the duty of the Order of the Wash. That much was true. But, less abstractly, what he really wanted was to make Lavabo proud!

The plan was simple. Starting with the servants' wing of Butterfly Castle, Marco would open a single portal from the Wash to each floor, one at a time, and sweep through the hallways in a single structured pass. Afterwards, the squire would repeat the same process with the nobles' wing. Finally, he would take care of the deliveries outside the castle, one portal per customer.

He had budgeted ten minutes for each level of the castle, and a full two hours to deal with the few deliveries further afield in town. Fortunately for him, nearly all of Mewni's inhabitants were expected to queue in front of the Wash's pickup window to retrieve their clean laundry. Delivery was reserved to those in the castle, and the select few of high station that lived beyond its walls. So, other than Lavabo's fellow knights, and some of the more reclusive nobles, all of his customers today where inside the same (admittedly huge) building. As things stood now, Marco was a full half-hour ahead of his projected schedule.

He grinned, satisfied with his work thus far. After all, a great squire is an overachieving squire!

Artax Ed, the Wash's noble steed, accompanied him on his quest. The diminutive horse had been outfitted with a tiny wagon, which it used to drag the clothes corresponding to their current floor behind itself. Even for a single floor, the pile atop the wagon could sometimes tower well above Marco's head.

Fortunately, young Artax was quite freakishly strong for a foal just barely the height of the human boy's knees. Marco, once again, congratulated himself on having done the research before the start of the squire blowout sale, and managing to pick a horse with excellent stats and exceptional growth rates!

At present, there were only three more levels to go, and he would be done with the servants' quarters. Besides, the upper floors, for the more specialized court retainers, tended to have fewer rooms. Fewer rooms meant fewer deliveries. Fewer deliveries _usually_ meant less time.

"Delivery!" Marco announced, as he knocked on the oaken double door before him. "Order of the Wash, Squire Diaz reporting with your clean… _um_ … peacock feather hat?"

There was also a white silk scarf and what looked to be a two-piece suit that somehow included frilly black shorts. But the peacock hat somehow still managed to be the gaudiest piece in that set by a royal mile and a half. That plume was longer than Marco's arm. The hat itself seemed to be velvet and patterned with silver musical notes.

Speaking of musical notes, the response to Marco's announcement came, surprisingly enough, in the form of what sounded like an acoustic guitar strum. It was then followed by a simple tune and a clearly improvised verse:

 _"_ _...Hello dear stranger, that knocks at my door,_  
 _that which you bring, is what I'm looking for._  
 _Wait just a moment, it shall not be long,_  
 _as I lift up the safety, and finish my soooong!"_

Indeed, there was the sound of a bolt sliding on the other side of the wooden panel. Then, slowly, the door opened up to reveal a familiar figure, still busily playing on a wooden mandolin with his remaining free hand.

 _"_ _A feathered cap, which is indeed mine,_  
 _and I am happy to see it delivered on ti…_ Marco!?" the songstrel exclaimed in surprise. His final couplet cut off abruptly, as his hand missed the last note.

"Ruberiot..." Marco muttered the name, eyes narrowing in annoyed recognition. He reflexibly pulled the hat back just as the sognstrell reached out to grab it.

The young man seemed surprised at that, but took back his hand and nonchalantly ran it over the length of his own head, nervously pushing back his light brown hair. He definitely seemed a lot happier to see Marco than viceversa, and his earnest smile made Marco feel just the slightest pang of guilt about his colder initial reaction. But, well...

"Marco, pal! I didn't know you were back in Mewni!" the musician exclaimed. "You should have told me sooner. We could have hung out, just like old times! Remember? Hiding out in the vents? Doing acrobatics? Getting imprisoned and nearly tortured by rats? What an experience that was!"

" _I_ got nearly tortured by rats," Marco corrected the songstrel. "You guys just kept goading them on to do so!"

"Right, right. It was totally your show that night, Marco, I'll admit it," replied Ruberiot, somehow missing the point, _and_ his friend's irritated tone. "It was a great performance too! All of it. Remember when you rubbed sewer refuse on your cheeks for camouflage?"

Marco flinched, remembering the smell. Oh god, _the smell!_

"Yeah, um, I'd rather not remember _that,_ " he protested.

" _Au contraire!_ It was _inspired!_ " Ruberiot's face lit up with excitement. "Such a poignant commentary on the nature of tyranny and rebellion. A near perfect conceptual performance piece. Guerrilla art taken so hyper-literally as to transcend metaphor itself!"

"Um, uh... thank you? I guess." Marco had no idea what any of that really meant, but Ruberiot seemed quite sincere in his praise, so, well…

"But, Marco, to be absolutely frank with you," the musician continued with a shrug, "I am a bit disappointed you didn't mention you were around. I thought we were friends."

"We… I guess we are… we were…" Marco mussed, uncertain. Despite it all, he actually had ended up hanging out a lot with Ruberiot and his, um, colleagues, last time he had stayed in Mewni. Probably second only to Star and her family.

He hadn't really gotten over Ruberiot's antics, so much as simply gotten _used_ to them. So, yeah, in a way, they _were_ friends. But that still didn't change one thing. One thing he was responsible for that somehow was - to this date! - causing no end of trouble for Marco and his best friend.

"Dude! Do you have _any_ idea how many problems your princess song has caused!? The one you made for Star?" Marco said with a stern look. The whole _'prince'_ nickname and his unfair reputation as a pampered fool among the other squires had started with that blasted song! "And never mind the trouble it has caused for me... I can only imagine the problems it caused for her and Queen Moon! Frankly, I'm surprised they didn't just fire you after that!"

"Well, obviously," the songstrel shrugged. "I wonder that myself. But, Marco, sometimes we must all suffer for true art!"

"Doesn't look like _you_ suffered much from it," Marco grumbled. "Look, man, I am sorry I didn't let you know I was back. Honestly, I was too busy down in the Wash to even think about it. I am a squire now, and…"

"A squire? Really?" Ruberiot asked, surprised. "You know… my parents wanted both my sister and I to go into the knighthood business. Order of the Scale. You know? A lawstrel? Thankfully I managed to avoid that awful fate!"

Ruberiot took a look at Marco's frown, and then began to backpedal. "I mean, I am not saying it is not a good job, for _some_ people. It's just, well, Marco, art is so obviously my true calling! I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else."

" _Right..._ " Marco agreed, with only some amount of irony in his tone. After all, he really couldn't imagine what Ruberiot would be like as a squire, let alone a knight!

"It must still be quite the experience for you, Marco," Ruberiot added, pensive. "To leave your world behind to become a soldier in ours, to experience such hardship and alienation. You must tell me all about it! Surely I could write a gripping song from that kind of material!"

Yeah... no. That one wasn't happening. Marco didn't even want to think of how Higgs and the others would react if there was suddenly some whiny emo song floating around about his experiences as a squire and him missing his home, whether or not there was any truth to it.

Still, Marco had to admit he _had_ enjoyed hanging out with the songstrel and his motley crew back after Toffee had been defeated.

"So, um, right now I am kind of in a hurry, but well, if you want, maybe…" he was going to regret this, "... maybe we can hang out some other time?"

"I'd like that, Marco. I very much would." Ruberiot smiled. "Of course, I am quite busy at the moment as well. I have an important performance to deliver in but a few hours! That's why I am so glad you brought my ensemble for tonight! You are a true friend, Marco Diaz."

"Um, it's kind of my job…" the boy pointed out, as he handed out the hat and suit to the musician. Deep down, he was glad that there were people besides Sir Lavabo who appreciated the strict timeliness of the Order of the Wash, after all. "Also… a performance? Hopefully not another princess song?" He flinched at the idea.

"Oh, nothing like that! This will be a much more private, avant garde event. Only one audience member, really," the songstrel clarified. "Tonight at 8, her place, I'll show that talentless buffoon what a true _artiste_ is all about!"

"Buffoon?" Marco asked. "You mean Foolduke?"

"Yes, indeed. We have a little wagger going on, you see, on who can best impress the other." As he spoke, Ruberiot walked behind a tall piano, tossing his current shirt and pants out through the side of the huge instrument.

Marco was momentarily taken aback by such casual and unannounced disrobing, but it wasn't like he could see anything untoward. Still, he averted his gaze from the performer, as he proceeded to change clothes behind the piano. Ruberiot, nonchalantly, continued their conversation.

"It should not be at all difficult to see which of the two of us is the true artist, and who is the derivative hack," he remarked, as he draped the silk scarf around his neck and carefully adjusted the hat plume. "But I am afraid that her ability to recognize true inspiration is as non-existent as her own artistic talent. So this will, obviously, take a while… otherwise I'd ask you to hang out after the function, Marco. But, well, chances are it will be extended until late at night, if past performances are any indicator."

"Um, wait a second…" Something didn't add up with that story. Then it dawned on him. Marco was shocked he hadn't realized it any earlier, actually. "Are you two _dating?_ "

"Dating!? Me and that uncultured clown? Nonsense! We barely tolerate each other, Marco," replied Ruberiot, visibly offended. Then, he stepped out from behind the piano, fussed with his hair under the feathered hat, and applied a dollop of some oily substance to his goatee. "Now, how do I look?" It was good that he was a musician and not an actor, because he was fooling no one.

"Um, stylish, I guess," replied the human boy. By Mewni standards, at least, that look was quite fashion forward, the squire imagined. Ruberiot, for his part, beamed at the appraisal.

"Well, Marco, I am afraid I still should probably rehearse my song and, um, it's really meant for a very specific audience," Ruberiot blushed. "I mean, it's experimental stuff, not intended for the uninitiated. Yeah, that's what I meant! So, well, um… see you around some other time?"

Marco could take the hint. Besides, he had a ton of clothes to deliver still, and this whole conversation had really eaten into his lead time-wise.

He smiled. "Sure, Ruberiot, and, heh, good luck on your d… I mean, performance. Break a leg, man."

The songstrel beamed. "You too, Marco. You too."

He then nearly slammed the door on the squire's face. Nothing malicious about it, Marco imagined, just him being nervous about tonight.

As he opened a portal back to the Wash, Marco heard the first few notes of what he was pretty certain was a serenade. 'Experimental stuff', _right…_

* * *

After Ruberiot, there had only been a couple more floors to go on the servants' side of the castle. Soon, Marco was zipping through the nobles' wing, more than making up for the previous delay in terms of his master schedule. As much as he enjoyed a good sense of completion, though, Marco found that he soon _missed_ the servants' quarters.

Now, of course, the rooms, and even the hallways, of the nobles' wing were so much nicer. The problem was that the people themselves really, um, weren't. Quite the opposite, actually.

Some of the nobles, minor ones as well as Star's own relatives, looked at him and Artax Ed as if both of them had fleas - which, for the record, neither of them did. Lavabo was super strict in making sure Artax Ed received a proper bath before every shift. Plus, wouldn't a _dirty_ laundry crew contradict the whole point of the kingdom having one in the first place?

Either way, they all treated Marco like nothing more than another general-purpose servant, when they took notice of him at all. In the best case, they'd wave him in just long enough to let him put the clean laundry back into their cabriole-legged armoires, then quickly become impatient if he didn't manage to silently extract himself of their rooms in record time.

That is, of course, unless they had some other, often inane, task that they wanted him to help them with!

The squire of the Wash found himself moving sofas, repeatedly adjusting paintings, and, in one occasion, replacing seventy eight wax candles from a hanging chandelier, twelve feet about the room's floor.

With the servants, he'd drop their clothes off and be done with it. Many of them were already out and about, and had left a note on their door informing Marco to simply leave their clothes in front of it. It was easy and convenient.

That was never the case with the nobles however. They were all in their quarters, taking naps, or knitting, or reading. It made Marco wonder if these people even had jobs of their own. Or was being lucky enough to be related, however distantly, to the Queen mean that everything would be handed to you for life?

Ugh, Marco needed to stop this train of thought. He was starting to think like Higgs!

No one paid enough attention to the human boy to recognize him, either, despite hanging out with the princess for a whole summer, and Ruberiot's stupid song. They were mostly just not looking at him for long enough to even make the connection.

Somehow, Marco doubted that Star, or even Queen Moon, ever acted quite so dismissive of those below their station. At least, he hoped they did not. He particularly hoped that he hadn't done that either, back when he was regularly hanging out in Mewni with his bestie.

He could see River being pretty clueless in his interactions with others, meat blanket cape and all that, but certainly not disdainful towards anyone in particular. If there was someone in the castle that cared little for ranks and aristocracy, it was, ironically enough, the king himself. And if there was anyone who really minded that sort of stuff, it was…

'Etheria Butterfly,' Marco read the next name from the delivery list, and sighed, staring apprehensively at the huge ornamented double doors before him.

The panels on each side were carved to show two separate yet equally detailed scenes. The left door showed an intricate forest, full of ivy vines and flying butterflies, carefully sculpted out of mewnian high oak wood. The right one, made of darker timber, represented instead an idealized rendition of outer space: strange planets with way too many rings, multiple crescent moons, and a dazzling number of five-pointed stars. The two distinct vistas somehow joined seamlessly in the middle. The swarm of delicate fluttering lepidoptera, for example, became a stream of shooting stars as they crossed into the right door. Likewise, the vines flowed into the spiral arms of galaxies as they switched sides.

The arch around both doors was finely carved marble. Above it, hung a small curtain, tinted with what the squire of the Wash instantly recognized as an obscenely expensive dragon-blood violet dye.

It was certainly the most beautiful door he had yet ran into in his delivery errand. Despite his awe at the image, Marco really hoped the person who lived behind those doors wasn't home.

He knocked softly. "Order of the Wash. Squire Diaz reporting with an order for…"

The doors slammed open on their own before he could finish announcing himself. Behind them, all the way back through a bedroom that was larger than Marco's entire home, sat Star's great-aunt.

She was a short hunched woman, more hairdo than face, sitting on a huge velvet-covered violet chair way too large for her own size. She ought to have seemed comical, but there was something about her harsh regal expression that would not _allow_ such humor. Instead, she gave the squire the impression of a fat bloated spider, waiting placidly in the middle of her vast web.

Etheria regarded Marco with those intense, intelligent, and _utterly disapproving_ eyes of hers. Her cheekmarks, a pair of five-pointed stars, were in the process of cooling down from their flashing luminous state into a deceivingly soft pink hue.

Marco understood, then, how the old woman had opened the door. Magic, after all, ran in the family.

"Diaz? Yes, indeed, I was expecting you… squire," she forced a smile, one so unnatural as to make Marco actually miss her previous sneer of disapproval. At least that one had seemed honest. She glanced at the three dozen or so dresses Marco was bringing her and sighed. "Leave them on the bed, boy. I'll have someone hang them later. Right now, we need to talk."

"Pardon me, ma'am?" Marco asked, nervously. Figures, out of all of Star's relatives, it would be _her_ that recognized him.

She took a moment to reply, focused, instead, on the object in her lap: a large red yarn that she was in the process of knitting into a baby-sized pair of pants.

"That'd be 'pardon me, _your highness_ ,' actually," she corrected him. She didn't seem annoyed, which, now that he thought of it, was a first among the times he had met the woman before. "But don't worry. I understand. You are not from around here, after all, and I am sure my niece and grandniece have allowed shocking liberties from you when it comes to protocol…"

Marco had the distinct impression that it was best not to say anything to that.

"That said. Well, you won't hear me say this often, but, I have to admit: I misjudged you," Etheria continued, leaving Marco ever more confused. "Back when Star brought you, of all people, to our joint family picnic - a shameful debacle all on its own - I was fearing the worst. I thought history was about to repeat itself yet again! Our family certainly cannot survive three generations of such a shameful reprobate behavior - starting with my beloved sister involving herself with that deserting chef Lazlo, and again as my niece married that lout of a-"

"Your _highness,_ " Marco interrupted, channeling his inner-Lavabo as best he could, taking on a deferential yet firm tone. "That's the Queen and King of Mewni you are talking about, to one of their loyal squires."

Not to mention, their daughter's best friend. Though it wouldn't help Marco any to point that out.

Etheria smiled, bitterly. "Yes, yes, of course, of course. That's the point, after all. I got to say that I appreciate that you, at least, have some notion of your own place. Ours is a generous kingdom, full of opportunities for those seeking to improve their station… in the right ways. Knighthood is certainly within the reach of an ambitious but unknown foreigner. However…"

She had kept knitting through the whole monologue. Only now did she stop, taking a single needle out of the interlaced fabric. She casually pointed the knitting needle at Marco, and only then did the squire notice just how long and how pointy the metal instrument seemed to be.

"I am sure this is an absolutely needless warning. But, still, I must make this clear, _squire_ Diaz: stay away from my grandniece," she commanded. "She is hard enough to manage as things stand. The Lucitor Prince would not have been my first choice of a suitor, but he comes from a long noble line, allied to our own for generations. He might yet prove a positive influence where the paternal blood has proven to be a curse. I will not stand for any interference with that particular matter. Understood?"

Ugh. So that was what all this was about? The woman had probably heard Star's princess song, worried that the princess was - supposedly! - in love with a commoner, and decided to throw her weight behind another, more 'proper', alternative?

Marco actually felt more sorry for Tom than for himself in that scenario. It's like the only thing that mattered to Etheria concerning Star's boyfriend was his royal lineage! His actual character was only secondary, if it was relevant at all. At the very least, he wished she had had the decency to refer to Star's boyfriend by his name!

As for her 'warning,' well… it's not like there was anything going on between the Squire of the Wash and the Princess of the Butterfly Kingdom. They had always been, and always would be, just friends. Right? But, still, if there _had_ been anything between them, then like hell it was any of her business!

While pondering all this, Marco had, somehow, stopped listening to a single word of what the older woman was saying. A forceful cough grabbed his attention back towards a pair of cold indignant eyes.

"...I _said_ 'you are dismissed'. I've said my piece, squire. Don't you have clothes to deliver?" Etheria pointed out, bringing Marco back to the present.

"Um, yes, uh… your highness…?" Marco replied, lamely, and began making his way out of the door, followed by an oblivious Artax Ed, who pranced after him as if nothing were wrong.

"Just remember: stay away from my grandniece, and we will get along famously!" shouted Aunt Etheria through the door.

Like hell they would. Like hell he would!

Marco was now more determined than ever to find the time to hang out with Star, and he was certainly going to tell her everything about how much of a b… um, _witch_ her grand-aunt was!

He felt like he now understood why Star had so much trouble getting along with her family members, and couldn't blame her for having anxiety around them. He wondered what stories _she_ had to tell, about 'aunt Etheria'.

Marco glanced back at his list. 'Heartrude Butterfly, Mimas Butterfly, Aurora Butterfly, Rigel Butterfly, Eclipsa Butterfly, and… _yes!... Star Butterfly!_ '

Marco tried his best to get through the rest of the noble's wing as fast as possible, to maximize the time he might have to hang out with Star if she was around, before he had to head out for the non-castle deliveries. Much to the boy's annoyance, every single Butterfly listed was inside their respective bedroom/mini-mansion when the boy came with their clothes. This meant he'd have to stay a few extra seconds to do some meaningless chore for them, or listen to their complaints about something that didn't involve him.

Eventually, though, there were just two more Butterflys left.

* * *

The squire turned left and went down the proceeding hall. He had never been through this area of the nobles wing before. In fact, it looked like hardly anyone ever had: this entire section of the castle was horribly maintained! The paint on the portraits had completely faded, and the wallpaper was peeling all the way to the dust ridden floor. It was so bad that giant tree vines from outside had invaded the interior through several cracks in the castle's stone walls.

Marco wasn't sure why this particular set of hallways had been abandoned like that. Perhaps, the Butterfly family simply wasn't as big as it once was, or maybe something terrible had transpired here. Either way, it seemed like a waste of space.

When River had mentioned that all available rooms had been occupied by displaced townsfolk, he clearly hadn't even thought of counting those in this part of the castle. Nor, Marco realized, had he thought of offering one of them for him to stay in.

In fact, apparently only one of the rooms in this dilapidated area was occupied at all, and even that only recently. It was the last room of the forsaken passage. The destination of the young squire and foal. _Eclipsa's_ room.

It was strange, though. Shouldn't there be a guard or two keeping watch? If Star's great times whatever grandmother truly was such a heinous villain, then shouldn't there be more security?

As it stood, the entrance to the Queen of Darkness' chamber had a few locks on it, but the door itself seemed just as flimsy as any other in that hallway. A healthy adult would have no trouble forcing their way out of that, and even Marco himself had barged through his fair share of them, when leading 'la resistance' against King Ludo.

The human examined the door from a safe distance, and realized that a small flapping doorway had been installed near the bottom. It reminded him of that doggie door his father had needed to make for the Laser Puppies.

It didn't seem like the most humane way to handle this, but, well, the woman was a prisoner and suspected criminal, after all. This was probably the safest way to go about this.

Marco bent down and began sliding several folded dresses towards the door. Hopefully he could...

"Boo!"

Marco screamed, fell down to his back, and speedily created distance between himself and the door, by panickedly pawing at the stone floor and dragging his own butt through it in reverse until he hit a wall.

After a few stabilizing breaths, the boy regained his composure and hoisted himself back up. He turned his gaze back towards the door, where a truly bizarre sight greeted him.

A young woman, probably in her mid-thirties, had forced her head, and _only_ her head, through the doggie door, and was aggressively chomping at the air in a vain attempt at seizing the now scattered dresses. Her emerald hair, which was probably beautiful in a whole lot of other situations, looked disheveled and resembled a bird's nest. Her lavender eyes had the same type of fierceness to them as a Manticore trying to catch its prey within its maw. Marco knew that one from experience.

The squire technically had no other business here. The clothes had been, arguably, delivered. Still, he couldn't just walk away from _this._ He had to ask.

Marco looked down at her. "Um. What are you doing?"

The seemingly feral lady stopped her grunting instantly and looked up, as if just now noticing his existence.

Eclipsa spoke softly, "Oh! You're still here. That's... quite embarrassing. Usually they're already gone by now…" She looked off into the distance.

Before Marco could question her further, Artax Ed zipped between the squire's legs and started licking the former Queen's face.

Eclipsa giggled at the kissing horse. "Pfft, hey, stop that, you adorable little thing! It tickles!"

If it tickled her so much then why didn't she just pull her head back in?

"Sorry about that, er, your highness? Artax did get his teeth brushed this morning, but I'll stop him." Marco grabbed his equine companion and held him in his arms.

Eclipsa snorted. "Hmph, 'highness?' I wouldn't exactly call myself that in this predicament. And I'm not just talking about my current elevation."

Marco couldn't help but smile at her bad joke. "But, seriously, what are you doing?"

"Well, after spending three hundred years in a magical crystal, your body is so unused to moving that it stiffens so much easier than before. So… I invented this fun little game where after I scare away the delivery boy or the chef, and they scatter my things everywhere, I try to see how much of it I can grab from down here. Really uses the neck and arms muscles."

It was part funny and part scary how straight faced she was during that explanation. Marco didn't want to offend the woman, but _man_ was that weird! Like, beyond even Star-levels of weirdness.

Wait! She routinely scared away people that came to deliver stuff to her? Wasn't the whole reason Marco was doing this because the old mailmewman had had... what was it? 'An encounter with a deranged criminal'? Well, no offense to his bestie, or her apparently positive impression of her ancestor, but 'deranged' sounded just about right!

Eclipsa seemed to catch on to the squire silently judging her, and continued with "And before you say anything, do consider how _you_ would go about entertaining yourself while locked in a dingy old room all day and night. Trust me, sometimes I _wish_ I was unconscious through it all like I was in my crystal."

That was a fair point, actually. When Marco was imprisoned for a week, he at least had River to pass the time. Without him, he may have gone crazy from the boredom. "Um, that makes sense, I suppose. Regardless, it'd be a shame if you couldn't actually reach your clean clothes. May I hand them to you?"

The woman seemed surprised at first, but then she gave off a thankful expression. "What's your name, young man?"

"Marco Diaz, current and sole squire of the Order of the Wash." He gave her a salute.

"The Wash?" Eclipsa said, as if in disbelief. "But, you're so young and… still in one piece?"

Um, what exactly did she mean by that?

"Nevermind that. Would you like to come in for tea?" Eclipsa asked.

"I… don't think I can fit through that door?" Marco reasoned, surprised at the invitation.

Eclipsa immediately pulled her head back into her prison. Marco half expected her to goad him into an attempt at squeezing through the doggie door, but instead, she opened the entirety of the door herself.

For the first time, Marco finally got a full look at the infamous Eclipsa, Queen of Darkness. By the standards of royalty, she was dressed quite plainly. By the standards of a convict, quite the opposite. There was something about her that made old mauve her color, be it her contrasting green hair or her matching eye color and spade-shaped cheek marks. She knew this, too, and was dressed in a single piece dress of that particular hue.

The dress itself must have been quite fashion-forward for three hundred years ago, too! Only the embroidery around the neckline, and the external belt, betrayed the piece as something older than what Marco would expect of Star herself.

Eclipsa was also wearing matching lilac silk gloves and socks. Despite the conditions of the cell room around her, and her unorthodox exercise routine, Marco had to recognize that both gloves and socks were in perfect condition. Not a single tear could be seen in the fragile material.

But, more importantly... Holy Crap! That door was never locked to begin with! Marco nearly dropped Artax as soon as he realized this. He stared at Eclipsa, mouth wide open.

"Now then, are you coming?" Eclipsa asked as she motioned him inside.

Oh God, should Marco… call someone right now? It definitely wasn't a good thing that such an important prisoner was able to freely leave her cell. But, at the same time, would Star think poorly of him if he snitched like that? Star really seemed to get along with Eclipsa, if the contents in her letters were any indication, and she had made it clear to him that she thought her great-great-etc grandma had been imprisoned unjustly. Would Star feel betrayed if Marco didn't trust the same woman she trusted?

At the very least, Star had said that Eclipsa was unable to perform wandless magic, and the woman herself seemed nice enough. But what if all of that was an act? An attempt to trick Marco into a false sense of security. He _did_ read her chapter in the Book of Spells, and it took Star and Glossaryck all day to fish those evil spirits out of his body. Of course, maybe that had been Marco's own fault for reading it? She didn't seem all that bad. Perhaps it would be fine as long as he exercised extreme caution. After all, a great squire is an untrusting squire.

There was also the issue of how this would affect his time for the deliveries. How long should he stay for tea? Would he have enough time afterwards? Should he have one cup or two cups? Definitely not three. That much was certain. Should he ask for Earl Grey, or just be thankful for whatever she's got? She's a _prisoner_ in _Mewni_ , after all, so there probably isn't much in terms of variety. Maybe he should just politely decline, and hope that she wouldn't tell Star what an unfriendly squire her friend-

"Are you okay, Marco?"

Marco took a deep breath and swallowed all the anxiety that was swelling up in his brain.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love a cup."

* * *

"You're not pulling my leg, right?" Marco said, as a small rat-like creature with bug wings poured him another cup of tea. Eclipsa had apparently trained these critters into being quite the handy assistants. Still didn't stop them from trying to eat Artax Ed though, so unfortunately the foal had to wait outside and guard the clothes cart.

"I'm being completely honest with you," Eclipsa said, smiling at the squire's excitement. "The Wash was once the most respected order of the Knights of Mewni. To serve the Wash was the kingdom's highest honor."

"There isn't a single person in Mewni who thinks that now," Marco said. "Like, everyone assumes it's just mundane clothes cleaning. It's why I've had so much trouble fitting in with the other squires."

"That is bizarre," Eclipsa said, taking a sip. "And you're telling me that it's been just you and this Lavabo fellow?"

"Only recently. Lavabo has been running the Wash by himself for decades, and I'm the first squire he's ever had."

Eclipsa regarded the squire's words with an impressed look. "He must be a remarkable man, then. A lone soldier taking on the Wash by himself would have been unheard of three hundred years ago."

Marco beamed. "Oh, you have no idea. He's the most badass guy I know. A little awkward, sure, but super honorable, and he taught me a lot." He then thought about it for a second. "It's weird. Even though he's my mentor and I'm his protege, I feel like I've been helping him in a lot of ways as well. We're both kind of learning from each other, I guess."

"Knighthood should never prevent someone from learning from the people around them," Eclipsa said. "The bond between a knight and squire is a powerful one. Traditionally, it is seen as going only in one direction: the knight mentors, and the squire learns. Eventually, the squire becomes the knight, and nothing is lost, or gained, in the process. However, I have personally learned that many relationships that seem to be uneven at first glance, are improved when thought of as a partnership between two equals, regardless of rank or experience."

It felt good to hear that. Marco was sometimes under the impression that Lavabo didn't really need him, like he assumed when Lavabo had first talked about cleaning the Garment Goblins' mess by himself. The squire had to remember, though, that every man has his limits.

Lavabo may have had a will of steel when it came to the Wash, but he was still an old man. Marco knew deep down that his knight appreciated everything he contributed to the sacred order. And now that Marco knew that two men handling the Wash used to not only be unheard of, but probably suicidal, well… it felt good, that's all.

Eclipsa gave a sigh of nostalgia. "I remember the Wash well. My mother would bring me down there to observe the twenty or so men and women, fighting off the yarn serpents and the poisonous polka dot basilisks hiding within the clothing. She respected them greatly."

Wow, twenty people. Marco could only dream about having such manpower to work with. "Heh, must be validating to be approved of by the Queen of Mewni."

"But of course! Even inside her will, my mother, Solaria, specified that any members of the Wash who were slain by her poltergown be buried right alongside her. It was her way of thanking them, and apologizing in advance, for their great service."

"O-oh. That was, nice of her," Marco said awkwardly. "Wait a second, are poltergowns the reason why the Magic High Commission-"

"My, you really are a clever boy, Marco." Eclipsa smiled. "Yes, that is one reason why, despite being branded a traitor and an evil sorceress, the Magic High Commission would never resort to executing me. They'd rather keep me alive in crystalized stasis forever. Partly because killing isn't their style, but mostly because, if I were to kick the bucket, I'm confident the dark magic escaping from my body would put up _quite_ the fight."

Marco was thankful he and Lavabo wouldn't be around when the Wash would have to face a poltergown from a Butterfly Queen. Moon wasn't the type of woman to be brought down easily, at least.

The boy looked back at Eclipsa. The woman seemed so strange to him at first. She was waiting for an impending trial that would decide her fate, but she didn't seem the least bit concerned about it. She came off as a care-free hedonist, despite everything in her situation being stacked against her.

She probably didn't mind because, even if she was found guilty, no harm would come to her. She'd still be alive in the end. But was living out the rest of eternity in one of Rhombulous' crystals _really_ living?

"Your highne-" Marco stopped himself. "Ms. Butterfly, I want to know, when Toffee was destroyed and you escaped from your crystal, why did you come back to Mewni? You could've gone anywhere in the multiverse where no one knew who you were, and live in peace. Why be free and walk right back into captivity?"

For the first time, Eclipsa didn't smile at the squire. She had always been so quick to respond to Marco's questions with something witty or charming. But now, she really needed to think it over. As if she herself hadn't considered her own motivations in returning here.

"Because… despite everything…" Eclipsa paused. "I can't bring myself to hate Mewni. In fact, I still love it here. Even if the people are different, it's all the same, for better or worse."

Was her reasoning really that simple? Marco had a hard time believing her.

Eclipsa picked up her tea, and started stirring it with a spoon. "You know, when I was a little girl, I always tried to envision what the future would look like. It was exciting to think about, especially when you grew up in a state of war. How great would it be if monsters and mewmans finally put their differences aside and tried working together? My mother said wishing for such a thing was childish, but I held onto that dream."

Her tea-stirring was getting faster, more intense.

"I mean, three hundred years is such a long time. I thought things would definitely have changed for the better by then. They must have had. They had to. So I went to Mewni, and as I made my way past the Forest of Certain Death, I saw monster village after monster village. Big enough to support about a dozen families, but small enough as to not alert the Knights of Mewni of their existence. Three hundred years and it stayed the same. The only difference now I suppose is that there isn't as much fighting between the two sides anymore, but only because the monsters have now given up. Three hundred years..."

Eclipsa then stopped with the stirring. It seemed she had just unloaded a lot of stress that had been building up on that single cup of tea. Even so, not a single drop of it had escaped onto her clothes or the table. All the tea remained in the cup.

"I'm sorry, Marco. I… must have said some things that you aren't used to hearing," Eclipsa said, looking apologetic for losing her cool. To him though, the former queen didn't say anything she should feel ashamed of.

"No, I get it," Marco said. "The way mewmans have treated monsters has always been unfair. The Butterfly family has inherited all sorts of harmful prejudices. But... I think Star has been able to look past a lot of those recently. She made friends with one monster, at least, and even sort of has a fan club made up of them."

Eclipsa smiled. "You're right. And she's precisely the reason why I'm seeing this trial through."

"Oh!" Marco exclaimed. "Really? Her?"

"Yes. She believes that I'm innocent, as do I, obviously. I have the utmost faith that she'll bring to the light the corruption this kingdom has been plagued by for centuries. I will not attempt to escape just so I can validate their opinions of me. My name will be cleared, and when that's done, I can finally begin changing Mewni."

Marco wasn't sure what to say to her. Would nodding in agreement be considered treasonous? Either way, her resolve to stay here at least made the squire feel better about keeping her door unlocked. She wouldn't leave after saying all that to him.

"I should probably get going," Marco said, excusing himself. "I have more deliveries to make."

"Yes, I probably did take a good chunk of your time. My apologies."

The squire walked up to the door. "That's alright. It was… cool knowing how the Wash was once regarded. Maybe one day it can be brought back to its former glory."

Eclipsa got up as well. She picked up the plates and cups. "Hmm, well, don't worry too much about _that_. I'm sure their are already plenty of people that care deeply for you. Like… my granddaughter, for example."

Marco turned around. "Wait, how did you-"

Before Marco could get another word in, one of those flying rats slammed the door on his face. The only thing he could hear after that was snickering from someone on the other side.

How did she know about his ties to Star? Did he say anything about that without noticing?

Now that he thought about it, Marco did mention Star making friends with Buff Frog and the other monsters. No ordinary squire would know that information, so perhaps Eclipsa simply put two and two together.

It still felt like Eclipsa knew more than she let on, but the squire didn't have time to worry about that.

He quickly woke Artax Ed from his nap and the two ran back through the abandoned nobles hall together. After all, there was only one name left inside the castle in his list. As interesting as chatting with Eclipsa had been, Marco couldn't wait to surprise Star with a visit. Specially one that was well justified by his job, this time around… rather than just him sneaking through her window.

* * *

The thing about being a magical princess from another dimension, was that you could decide on a whim where your bedroom was going to be, and change its location anytime just as easily. Marco could visualize an angered Moon telling her daughter to go to her room, and Star, in response, simply poofing the entire thing right in front of them, before storming inside.

Marco had reasonably (albeit mistakenly) assumed her room would be in the same place as last time, but no. He checked the hallway it had been in, back when he arrived to Mewni. It was the same place he had also found it at the day after, before he moved in with Lavabo. This evening he found a solid wall instead. Star had once again moved her room, and trying to find the damn thing was wasting too much time!

After searching several more hallways within the top floors, Marco realized that the fastest way to find it was to portal several miles away from the castle, far enough to see the entire structure, and discern the room's location from the Southern Cornfields.

It took a while, due to the sheer size and complexity of Butterfly Castle, but he eventually found that the building's extension representing Star's room was attached to the top of the highest tower. It was the same floor where Moon and River's room was located.

Marco smiled, recognizing what that meant. Star was comfortable enough around her mother that she had placed their rooms right next to each other! Their relationship certainly seemed much better these days than it had been even a few months back, after fighting Toffee together. That happy thought made Marco instantly forgive how difficult his search had been.

Grinning, he portaled himself, Artax Ed, and the clothes cart to the tower, right outside Star's door.

Marco knocked on the colorful door, with a hell of a lot more confidence than he had on his second day at the Wash. With all those letter exchanges between them, he felt the initial drama and guilt surrounding his intrusion on Star's life had basically dissipated. After so many hardships, Marco felt he had finally earned the right to see his best friend again!

The door opened slowly, and out came… Tom?

"Marco? What are you doing here?" The demon prince asked. He didn't sound annoyed or bothered, just surprised.

Marco, too, was taken off guard. He, of course, remembered that Star and Tom were a thing (how couldn't he, after talking to Etheria!), but he assumed Star herself would answer a knock on her own door. Which meant…

"I guess Star isn't here?" Marco confirmed, not really hiding his disappointment, all while also ignoring Tom's original question.

Tom scratched the back of his head. "Yeeeaaahh, um, we were hanging out in her room, and well, something came up. I didn't pay much attention to the details, but Star and her mom were needed in town... or something."

"Ah, gotcha." Marco looked down. He probably should have expected something like this happening, honestly, considering _his_ luck. He could wait for her to come back, but he had already wasted enough time on Eclipsa.

"It's probably more serious than Star made it sound," Tom added. "She said she'd be back in a half-hour, and that was… four hours ago…"

Holy crap! He had been waiting for her _that_ long? Tom wasn't perfect, by any means, but even Marco had to give him props for being so patient with whatever business his girlfriend had to take care of.

Marco then noticed something in Tom's hand. It looked like one of those goofy stress relief toys you'd see in an office cubicle. Or, in this case, what was left of one. The item in his hands now resembled a piece of burnt tire. It was more ash than toy at this point.

Was he… trying to control his anger?

Tom noticed the squire's gaze and immediately hid the scorched thing in his pocket. "Um, so, I know you came here for Star, but if you want, we could-"

"Ah, sorry, Tom, I am actually only here on official business. I came to drop off Star's clothing." Marco felt bad leaving his friend like this, when he would have definitely made the time if Star were here, but he was behind enough as it was. "Do you mind taking them off my hands?"

"What?" Tom regarded the human with a confused expression.

Marco went back to his clothes cart and grabbed the last pile that was left on the miniature wagon. The pile contained a lot of Star's casual dresses, her blue PJs, some stockings, and her, er, underwear. All was freshly cleaned and neatly stacked together.

Marco held out the pile for Tom to grab, but his friend only looked at it apprehensively.

"You, uh, want _me_ to grab those?" Tom asked

"It's just clothing. It won't bite," Marco pointed out.

"Yeah, okay…" Tom made an uneasy face and grabbed a handkerchief from somewhere behind him and then used that as a barrier to grab Star's clothes. Then, he hurried back into her room and tossed it all on her bed like it was leaking acid or something.

"Phew, that was tense," exclaimed Tom relieved, after discarding the handkerchief into a nearby waste basket.

"Um, dude, I folded those myself and you just haphazardly spread them all over the bed." Marco had to admit that, despite his annoyance, there was something surprisingly wholesome about a demon who acted squeamish around his girlfriend's clothes. Never judge a book by its cover, and all that.

"Wait a second, _you_ folded those, Marco?" Tom asked, his three eyes widening. Marco even imagined a hint of a red glimmer to that surprised look.

"Um, yeah? I'm a squire of the Wash. I fold all the clothes that I'm responsible for cleaning." That seemed like basic common sense. Maybe in the Underworld it was more customary to spit on the clothes or something equally devious. "Did Star not tell you?"

Tom took in a deep breath and clasped his hands together, before addressing the squire. "Marco, you're my bro and everything, but, you can understand why I'd be concerned with another guy _handling_ my girlfriend's clothes, right?"

"Um, excuse me?" Marco said. He felt like he was talking to Janna all over again. "I'll have you know I take my job at the Wash very seriously. I would _never_ do anything creepy to Star's clothes. I washed, dried, and delivered them, the _exact_ same as any other clothes in Mewni."

The demon put his hands up, realizing that he had gone too far in his insinuation. "Warm out, man. I'm just saying, can't you get one of the girls at the Wash to handle, well, all the girly stuff? I don't think I'm asking for too much here."

Little did he know, he actually was. "There are no girls in the Wash, Tom. The entire place is run by two guys. So, who would you rather handle Star's clothes, me or an old man?"

Tom made a face that said he'd pick Lavabo over him. Ugh!

"I don't believe this! How can we be friends if you don't trust me enough to be professional at my own job!?" Marco yelled.

"I-it's nothing personal," Tom said defensively. "I just, um… how do I word this..."

"Honestly, Tom, if I were Star, I'd be more worried about _you_. I mean, come on, you waited here for four hours and didn't even _think_ about snooping around her room a little? A golden opportunity like that wasted? Pfft, _unlikely_."

"Hey! Watch your tongue, squire!" Tom's eyes flared up briefly, turning into three solid blood-red ovals just for a second. "I would never do anything like that! To even suggest that is the-"

Marco stopped him, calmly putting a hand over the demon's shoulder. "Yeah, dude, I know. Feels shitty to be accused of something you wouldn't do, though. Right?" Marco gave the prince a wink.

In that instant, Tom deflated. He began to chuckle, embarrassed, and a moment later the two teenagers were both sharing a good laugh at their own expense. It wasn't anything new for them, either. Marco and Tom would often get into, ahem, heated arguments that seemed tense at first, usually over something ridiculous. Then, once they finally got over themselves, they'd both end up laughing at the pure stupidity of it all.

Honestly, if Star had been here, she'd definitely slap the both of them like there was no tomorrow just for having this conversation. Never mind having a fight about it!

Tom smiled. "I missed you, man. It's been so long since we hung out."

"Yeah, still trying to get used to the whole squireing thing," Marco said. "I'll try to make time for you, but, well, I really don't have much free time to begin with."

"I know what you mean. Star and I had this whole day planned out for a week, and this is the third time in a row she had to ditch it to deal with some princess stuff." Tom looked over by the window, dejected.

"You're not... mad at her, are you?" Marco asked, remembering the stress toy.

His friend sighed. "I'm really trying not to be, man. I'm trying so hard not to be that clingy boyfriend that makes everything about him and his problems. I know Star's dealing with a lot, but seeing her so quick to leave me behind to help some peasants she's never met, well…" Tom struggled to continue, as if speaking his mind further wouldn't be so different from admitting he was a bad person.

"Well, if not being able to spend time with Star is the issue, you could instead try helping her with whatever princess stuff that comes up," Marco suggested.

Tom crossed his arms, contemplating the idea. "I don't know. What if it's, like, boring? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of us hanging out in the first place?"

Marco sighed. He couldn't believe he of all people was about to hand out relationship advice, but Tom seemed even more clueless than he was last summer with Jackie.

"Not everything you do with Star is gonna be sunshine and rainbows, Tom." And this was in regards to a girl who could literally make those things with magic, ironically enough. "You have to stick with her through the boring and difficult stuff, too. That's what relationships are. You know, 'through thick and thin' and such. You gotta show her that you're willing to do that for her."

"I guess you're right," Tom agreed. "Lately, Star has been helping me deal with my anger issues, and I know those moments aren't very fun for her, but I'm grateful for what she goes through for my sake. Do you think she would be happy if I helped her with princess stuff?"

"Of course!" Marco said confidently, leaving little room for doubt in his answer. "She would totally appreciate the help."

Tom's eyes filled with fiery determination. "Alright. I'll do it!"

As he said that, the demon prince turned towards the window. He opened it dramatically with both hands, took a deep bracing breath, and proceeded to put one leg over the edge. In the last moment, he whipped his head back around to face Marco, and...

"I don't actually know where she is," Tom said, deadpan.

Marco laughed. "Just do it next time, dude."

The demon groaned. "Ugh, I hyped myself up for nothing!"

Marco chuckled again. Then the cold breeze hit him. He looked out of the window, at the low hanging sun in the horizon. It was getting late, and there were still the deliveries outside the castle to consider. "Heh, alright, this was fun, but I _really_ need to get back to work. Catch you later, Tom."

The squire took out his dimensional scissors, and opened a portal back to the Wash. Artax Ed quickly followed in tow. He had barely above one hour left for the more remote deliveries, rather than the two he had budgeted for, so he'd better hurry up.

* * *

Tom stared at the swirling portal for a long, silent moment. Marco hadn't given him enough time to say bye back, and it felt awkward to go after him only to say goodbye. He kept staring at the vortex until, eventually, it zipped itself up, closed from the other side.

Well, no use fretting about that now, then! He had a girlfriend to track down and help!

Tom pulled out his compact mirror and pulled up Star's number. Hopefully if he called, she'd tell him where she was at least.

Right before he hit the dial button, he stopped himself.

He'd almost forgot! Tom closed the mirror and ran over to Star's desk, where her letters from Marco were haphazardly scattered about. Tom started putting them in a pile again, in order from newest to oldest- the way Star had left them- and tapped the bunch of them against the desk to straighten out the pile.

He put them back inside their drawer and had a pang of guilt hit him as he closed it one last time. Marco had only been joking at the idea of him snooping, and that's exactly what Tom felt like right now. A joke.

The demon mentally vowed to never do something like this again, and left his girlfriend's bedroom to actually be helpful for once.

As he speed-walked down the castle's highest tower, Tom kept thinking back to Marco's letters. Without even being there in person, he was able to cheer Star up when she had a rough day, and comfort her when she was sad. He didn't even need to see Star's responses to know that she looked forward to his daily letters. His stupidly long and _wordy_ letters.

Tom flipped open his compact mirror once again, and went to the last text conversation he had with Star last night.

 _"_ _Hey Starship, cant wait to see ya tommroow!"_

 _"_ _Totes, Boo!"_

…

The Lucitor prince wondered to himself. Was that really the best he could do?

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Well, there you have it, the first batch of Marco's deliveries. Unfortunately, we had to leave one out for next chapter, mostly for reasons of space but also... well, you'll see ;)**

 **For more information as to the state of the Wash during the final days of the reign of Queen Solaria the Monster Carver, and some of the events referenced by Eclipsa in this chapter, please refer to Chapter 1 of Shattered Order by Allusion_Conclusion, located on both Fanfiction and AO3.**


	13. Chapter 13: Of Knights and Knaves

Marco had spent the last hour portalling between the Wash and the various mansions and estates of the knights and nobles of Mewni. At least, those of them with deliveries due that day. A rushed salute, a quick greeting, a handful of clean folded clothes, and then off he was. It wasn't the most polite delivery service ever rendered, but it would have to do.

He had let himself become delayed far too much inside the castle, what between Ruberiot's antics, Etheria's threats, Eclipsa's tea, and Tom's, um… Tom-ness?

In the end, he had had to make two hours worth of long distance deliveries in only one. Even with dimensional scissors, that had been quite the challenge. Still, unwilling to disappoint Sir Lavabo, the Squire of the Wash had pushed himself harder than ever, and just about managed to accomplish his quest...

Now there was one final delivery to be made, though it wasn't really the last name on his list. Marco had actually _skipped_ over it repeatedly until now, trying to postpone the inevitable and unpleasant encounter as much as possible.

Well, he no longer had that option! He sighed, grabbed the heavy wooden basket - heavy because it included, among other items, a full chainmail armor and breastplate set - and cut his last outgoing portal of the evening.

Normally, he'd have Artax Ed by his side to carry the clothes, but, for this final trip, the squire had decided to leave the young foal back in the Wash with Lavabo. After all, the tiny horse might get recognized by the man who, um… actually purchased him, and then Marco would _really_ be in trouble!

'Sir Stabby: One suit of armor, three pants, five shirts, nine sets of undergarments, one skirt,' Marco had counted, marking those off in his master list.

He had been somewhat surprised when he first read the last item, but then he realized, upon closer inspection, that it probably belonged not to the knight, but to his squire. So did one of the pants, one shirt, and two pairs of underwear. There was no way any of those would fit the broad muscular man, particularly the two bras.

That said, if it turned out that the skirt _was_ somehow actually Sir Stabby's, then all the more power to him. Princess Turdina was all up for defying stereotypes!

Marco wondered what kind of place Stabby and Higgs would live in. Would it be similar to Sir Lavabo's estate in the outskirts of the kingdom? Or perhaps a smaller but more elegant urban manor near the royal mile, like Sir Dashing's had been?

It was curious, though, of all the knights homes he had visited that day, none of them roommed with their squires. How weird was it that Higgs and Marco had that, of all things, in common?

Speaking of finding the place, well, that was the next challenge. Mewnian addresses were weird. There was a system to them, of course, but other than the royal way - and the royal mile in particular - it wasn't the streets that carried names. It was the plazas and neighborhoods. The best way to find where to deliver the clothes was, often enough, to portal to a high vantage point (say, one of the castle's balconies), find the right plaza, then portal down there and look for the fanciest house around.

Except, well, this particular address couldn't possibly be right!

Marco looked at his list, then at his map, then at the view before him. 'Queen Comet's Third Memorial Plaza, Western Rat's End' was the address. It looked, well… like you'd expect a place called 'Rat's End' to look like. Not to be unkind to Sir Stabby, but just from up here, Marco could see that the place was a slum!

No, literally, it _was_ a slum. A big sprawling one, too.

Marco portaled into a narrow dirt street between two leaning houses, which looked less like a planned construction and more like stacks of room-sized wooden boxes that had been thrown one atop another. The ground level windows were boarded up, and the street itself smelled heavily of piss. High above him, clotheslines hung between the upper windows, none of which had any glass panes, broken or not.

A few of these second and third floor windows had tattered rags for curtains. The rest, Marco could see through, into the sparse yet chaotic rooms within. A few 'apartments' were empty, but many more were veritably crowded: families of eight or more mashed together in what in the castle might have well been one of the servant closets. As the squire glanced inside, dozens of despondent eyes watched him in return, with confusion and muted curiosity.

Queen Comet's Third Memorial Plaza turned out to be a tiny patch of grass by the end of the narrow closed alleyway. It held a lonely looking bust of Star's grandmother atop a stone column standing near the far wall. Not counting the somewhat dismal statue, the mini-park would have been large enough to hold maybe four people sitting down for a picnic. If they were willing to end up leaning against the building walls on either side, that is.

Not that such seating would be possible right this moment, however, as the park's ground was entirely covered with garbage. Rotten food scraps for the most part, but also tons of wooden debris. It stank horribly, and yet the odor of urine remained the stronger of the two.

Now, Marco wasn't blind, or naive. He had been around Mewni long enough to know that this is how a lot of the kingdom probably lived. If anything, the people here seemed far less, well, dirt-poor than the farmers further away from the main city. There were, for example, iron pots and pans hanging from the clotheslines, along with other such modest possessions - no actual clothes, though, after all, there were only two people in all the kingdom that regularly did any laundry.

Yet, while these people obviously had more material wealth than the corn farmers did, they were also certainly crammed far closer together, and in far more unpleasant, if perhaps safer, conditions. Marco wondered which of the two lives he'd chose, if those were his only options. Neither seemed particularly bearable. Would the squire have had to endure this rough lifestyle if Lavabo hadn't been so willing to share his home with him?

It was very much unlike the other areas he had delivered to during that same day, that was for sure. After all, only nobles and knights got deliveries, plus the castle staff. Most mewmans simply queued each morning along the Wash's pick-up window for their clothes.

Usually, this was the part where Marco would look at the different houses, starting with the nicest-looking one, and inspect the name plates hung on them to indicate their owner. But, down here, houses had no name plates. They barely had anything to distinguish one from another, except for the different patterns of rot in their wooden walls. Several windows did have some basic graffiti plastered right above them, but the boy wasn't sure if this was to indicate a person's home or their association with a gang. There was simply no way Sir Stabby lived in this dump!

Marco's prospects of finding the right home didn't get any better after he tried wandering around for a bit, attempting to find some larger street or plaza. If anything, Comet's Third Memorial was the more upscale section of the Rat's End, if only in that at least the buildings near it were all in one piece.

Just around the corner from that same alley were two apartment-stacks for which half the second and third floor had collapsed. The box-like rooms that remained on those floors had been 'reinforced' with a series of thick nautical ropes, but it was clear that was a temporary solution at best.

Further afield, Marco found two full blocks that had completely burned down. Instead of being rebuilt, they now hosted some sort of semi-permanent encampment within the blackened husks of the former structures. The streets around were impassable, blocked by piles of broken wooden beams and planks. Even where they hadn't actually broken down yet, plenty of homes showed signs of fire or water damage along their walls.

Marco thought about Star's letters, and about her talk about rebuilding Mewni. For the first time since he came back, the squire finally understood the truly herculean scope of such a task!

Eventually, he made it back to where he had begun, feeling half-convinced that he had simply mistaken the address in his list. He briefly considered yelling at one of the windowless rooms, asking about Sir Stabby's home. It seemed like a sure way of getting laughed at in response.

Instead, Marco shook his head and took out his scissors again. He began cutting a portal back to the Wash. Perhaps Lavabo knew where his fellow knight lived?

"Ugh! I thought I recognized that flash of light the first time around!" came a voice from above. "What the hell are you doing in the goddamn rat ass… _prince?_ "

He really didn't need to look up to figure out who that was. The tone, not to mention the nickname, were unmistakable signs. Still, he did venture a weary glance towards the voice. There, standing by a tiny irregular hole, in one of the second floor wooden boxes, was Higgs.

Her box did have a curtain, and now that Marco was looking directly at it, he realized that it ought to have identified the house as well as any name plate would. It was a long blue cloth, made of what had, a long time ago, been finely-dyed velvet. If it weren't so washed out and half-burned, the human would have immediately recognized the heraldry in it. It was clearly one of Sir Stabby's old capes! It covered a window so misshapen that Marco half-wondered if Higgs had simply punched it into the wooden wall.

"Oh, so you guys _do_ live here!" Marco exclaimed, in relieved surprise.

It was only a second afterwards that he realized that was about the worst thing he could have said!

Higgs face turned red. For an instant, perhaps, red with embarrassment. By the time she jumped down, landing right in front of Marco, it had clearly transmuted into red with rage. She pulled him by the collar of his hoodie and lifted her other hand to form a threatening fist, looming far above the clothes basket that Marco was still carrying.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean!?" she asked in a quiet but angry tone, almost as if she was trying to yell at him and whisper at the same time. "Not all of us live in the castle, _prince_. And, again, what the hell are _you_ doing here!?"

Marco, blinking, realized that walls were probably pretty thin around here, and that his earlier shout, loud enough for her to hear from the second floor, had probably had half the neighborhood for an audience. He also realized how Higgs had interpreted it: as if he was amazed that people, in general, lived in a place like this.

He hadn't meant it that way though!

Had he?

"I, I am looking for Sir Stabby," Marco protested. "I was beginning to think he didn't live here, because there are no signs in the houses. So I was relieved to see that you two do live around here. That's all!" He defended himself.

Also, he technically didn't live in the castle, nor it's basement or sub-basement, but in Sir Lavabo's estate. Somehow, he doubted that clarification would make Higgs any less angry at him, though.

The squire considered letting down the basket to be ready to block Higgs' punch, just in case she didn't buy his explanation, but his sense of duty prevented him from doing so. After all, defending oneself against a strong assailant was one thing, but letting clean laundry fall so near to the piss-smelling ground was unacceptable. Lavabo would never allow something like that to happen, and neither would Marco!

"I _do_ live here. He doesn't," Higgs replied, dialing the tone down from murderous back to merely annoyed. To Marco's relief, she also lowered her fist and let go of his hoodie.

"But, the list said…" Marco began musing aloud. "Look, do you know where he lives? It's official Wash business. I am just trying to deliver his clothes."

Higgs looked down at the basket for the first time since they began their, um, conversation. She seemed to reassess the situation. "Ok, fine! Just hand them to me, _prince_."

She took a step back, and extended a single arm, palm up, beckoning him to pass the clothes basket.

"Um, well, I mean, I could, but... I am supposed to deliver to him _in person_ ," the boy protested.

"One, I always get Sir Stabby's clothes. He really doesn't trust your laundry-knight, so he insists that I polish his armor a second time, before handing it over to him, that's why this stuff gets delivered here. Two, I thought you guys just sent the mail mewman to do the deliveries," she paused for a moment and glared down at the pile of clothes. "And, three, some of those are _my_ clothes, and I'd appreciate if you'd deliver those to _me_ in person!" she demanded.

Marco raised an eyebrow. "Because Sir Stabby doesn't know you have been requesting delivery for your own stuff as well as his?" he ventured a guess.

"So? What of it!?" Higgs asked, testily.

"Well, delivery is supposed to be only for nobles, knights, and those living in the castle," Marco pointed out. "So look who is getting favorable treatment now, your highness!" he added, making good use of Etheria's lessons in protocol.

Frankly, the human didn't give a rat's… end if Higg's was getting her clothes delivered when she shouldn't. But after all the crap she had given _him_ for getting unfair advantages via his association with royalty, well, he certainly wasn't going to let this little hypocrisy of hers slide!

Higgs frowned.

"Yeah, well, whatever. You know what? Go hand Sir Stabby his stuff and go return mine to the Wash. I'll just pick it up tomorrow like everyone else." She crossed her arms in front of herself. "Good luck with handling his stabby-ness as he complains about 'the shoddy polishing job of those incompetent laundrymen', though!" Higgs added, in her best impression of her knight.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Marco protested. "Lavabo himself polished that armor! You could use it as a mirror!" In fact, that's what Sir Dashing had done with his own, right after the squire had delivered it earlier that evening…

"I know," Higgs grinned victoriously. "That's why I never actually bother trying to polish it again when it just came back from cleaning. But if _you_ hand those clothes directly to Sir Stabby, I guarantee you he will find fault with it, whether real or imaginary. So, this is me doing you a favor, _prince,_ not the other way around."

"Ugh. Fine," Marco relented. There was no winning with Higgs, and the prospect of doing one more trip carrying the huge suit of armor was becoming less and less appealing by the second. "But, um, are you sure you want me to just hand it to you like this? This is pretty heavy…" he warned her.

Higgs just rolled her eyes and extended her hand again. Marco, obligingly, pushed up the wooden basket with both arms and let it fall on Higgs outstretched palm. He had expected the girl to at least struggle to keep her balance, if not to topple forward altogether. She just smiled at him and pulled the basket closer, holding it level with one arm.

She did end up grabbing onto it from both sides, but only so she could then throw it flying through her second-floor window. From the sound of that 'thud!' and how rickety the homes around here looked, the human boy was surprised the basket hadn't just broken through the wooden floor on impact. Marco, apparently, had once again underestimated how strong Higgs truly was.

Thinking about it now, Star was also pretty strong. The squire pondered what would happen if the two mewmans ever had to fight each other in magicless hand-to-hand combat. Which girl would be more likely to win in that scenario? His friend or his rival? Marco would have been really curious to see that! But, uh, not in like a weird way or anything...

"Alright, prince, thanks for your service," Higgs added, rolling her eyes in a way the belied the appreciation. "It's been… whatever the opposite of a pleasure is."

Marco shrugged tiredly and prepared to head back to the Wash, glad to see this day, and this meeting, come to an end.

 _KRA-THACK!_

The squire's plans were interrupted by a sudden booming sound, like two ships crashing one against the other, and then a noise like a cracking whip, but ten times stronger. It was followed by a panicked cry.

Marco reacted on instinct, running towards the source of the noise, only to discover, to his surprise, that he was following Higgs, who had reacted even faster. The two squires raced out of the alleway holding Comet's Third Memorial, turning around the connecting street just in time to see the tragedy in progress.

The first noises had both come from one of the two partially-collapsed buildings he had seen before, the ones that had been missing half their third and second floor. Predictably, the supports for the remaining half hadn't been entirely stable either, and one of the apartment-boxes, currently still on the third floor, was now in the process of sliding down and crashing through the second. Most of the ropes 'holding' the falling apartment had snapped instantly, with two more currently straining to keep the wooden enclosure from falling down altogether.

Below the crumbling structure, was the origin of the terrified cry: an old lady, slowly trying to move out of the way of the impending disaster! Too slowly, Marco realized.

Higgs raced towards the woman, disregarding her own safety, just as focused as she had been during their own race for the vorpal sword. Marco looked at the straining ropes, and realized she wouldn't make it on time…

"Higgs! Stop!" he cried, hoping that, for once, the redhead squire would listen to him, would trust him.

Just as he shouted, Marco began cutting with his dimensional scissors. He stuck his arms through the portal and grabbed the elderly woman by the shoulder. He pulled her through as fast as he thought he could without hurting her, and closed the portal right after.

By the time he glanced back towards Higgs, the girl was already sprinting back. Whether because she had heard him, or because she had seen the blue vortex open besides the old lady, Marco didn't know. But he was relieved to see that his fellow squire was also well out of the range of the collapsing building.

Using an arm to protect the back of his head, Marco positioned himself to cover the lady he'd just rescued from any flying debris. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Higgs catch up with them and do the same. It took barely a second after that before the entire thing came crashing down behind them.

Fortunately, the only thing that reached them, as far as they now were from the falling structure, was the thunderous din of the crash. The old woman whimpered, startled by the noise more than anything else.

"It's ok, ma'am. You are safe now," Marco reassured her. "Just, breathe."

"Nice save there, Marco," Higgs noted, this time without sarcasm. "And, um, thanks," she mouthed quietly after a short pause, like she didn't actually want him to hear it.

Rather than being an ass this time around, Marco just nodded, and turned around to the old woman.

"It's alright ma'am. Please take all the time you need. Afterwards, we'll both be happy to escort you home," he offered.

"T… t… that _was_ my home…" the lady muttered.

Marco didn't really know what to say to that.

"Marco," Higgs explained, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think we have time to walk her anywhere, either. She knows where the encampments are. We need to look and see who else was in the crash's radius."

And just like that, the full magnitude of what had happened began to sink in.

* * *

Marco spent the entire night in the Rat's End, helping Higgs push aside wooden debris, and coordinate the neighborhood's ad-hoc relocation.

It turned out that the redhead squire was well known and, surprisingly, well liked, by the people living in this section of the Western Rat's End. It further turned out that buildings crashing down around these parts, if not exactly a common occurrence, was not a rare event either.

Fortunately, no one had been badly hurt. No one else had been out on the street at that time, and the walls of the other box-apartments had held against the assault of the bits and pieces of the falling one.

Still, there were plenty of doors that had become obstructed, and a good chunk of the homes near the collapse area had gone from barely livable, to _unlivable_ altogether.

"So, every few weeks something like this happens!?" Marco asked shocked, as he helped Higgs move a wooden beam away from a box apartment's first floor door.

"For the past few months, yeah," she muttered. "I mean, don't get me wrong, buildings around here were always crap. But, it's _way_ worse now a days. There was a big fire, back during the whole Ludo thing. Those damn rats probably started it! Not to mention that huge monster trampling all over town before the invasion."

"A fire?" Marco asked, dumbly.

"Yeah, well, we put it out," Higgs remarked, resignedly. "We're not too far from the lake."

"Not that water helped these putrid wooden walls any, did it, Higgs?" asked Old Guy, pensively, as he stroked his beard.

He had arrived at some point during the night, possibly after somehow hearing about the accident. It didn't seem like he was doing much to actually move stuff around, on account of how he was, well, an old guy. But the fact that he was around was more than either of the two squires could say about, for example, the actual knights of Mewni!

Ok, fine, Sir Lavabo's duties seemed to start and end with the Wash - and, that itself was plenty, whether others believed it or not!

But where were Sir Stabby, or Sir Dashing, or, um, Lady Jaya, for that matter? Maybe they each had their own specific areas of expertise, their particular posts, so to speak. But, if so, then why the hell did Mewni not have, say, a knight of civil engineering or something!?

Marco wasn't sure whose job was to help these people. But, well, it certainly should be _someone's_...

"I thought Queen Moon and Star were in the process of rebuilding Mewni," Marco mussed, more to himself than to anyone else around. "Wouldn't it make sense to start with this place? It certainly looks the most damaged…"

Higgs raised an eyebrow.

Old Guy just began laughing. It quickly degenerated into a dry cough. "Start with the Rat's End!? Good one, kid!" he exclaimed once he had recovered from his coughing fit. "Why rebuild what's a ruin to begin with? No offense, Higgs."

"Look, _prince_ ," she spoke, ignoring Old Guy's comment and subsequent mis-apology. "There are a lot of places in the kingdom in need of rebuilding. Places people in power care about, and also places like this. Guess which ones get fixed first, and which last? If at all…"

"That doesn't sound right," Marco observed. Did it? He didn't really know Moon well enough to be entirely sure of what her order of priorities would be, to be honest. He knew she was a good person, but also somewhat set in her ways on matters of tradition. On the other hand…. "Star wouldn't think that way, like, at all!"

"Oh, really? Ok, kid, tell us about how your ex-girlfriend is going to sweep in to save us all. That's bound to be an entertaining tale, for sure," Old Guy chuckled. "Isn't that right, Higgs?"

Marco braced himself for the redhead squire's cutting response, particularly after the way her elderly-looking friend had just set her up for it.

"You know what? Nevermind that," Higgs simply sighed, tiredly. Clearly the work of lifting plank after plank, and wooden beam after wooden beam, had begun exhausting even her. Or perhaps it was just the situation itself that drained her. "You know my opinion of Princess Star already, _prince_. But, then again, I also think you are a pampered idiot, and yet here you are, helping out. I… am grateful for that, actually. So, tell you what, if you can get her to come here and fix this _one_ mess, I am willing to reconsider _that_ opinion as well. Or, at the very least, I am willing to be grateful to her too."

Uh. Marco had certainly not been expecting that!

Then again, why not? He was sure that Star would be right here with him if she knew what was going on, that she would help them rebuild even if she had to do so by hand. Besides, wasn't she saying that she could make houses with magic these days? Singing houses, sure, but still, better than literal boxes that were falling apart!

It's not like he thought she would be able to fix the entirety of the Rat's End by herself. But this one street? This one house? And it would show Higgs, and anyone else who doubted it, that the princess of Mewni truly did care about her people!

But, how to get her here? Portal into her room? In the middle of the night? Definitely not! Write her a letter? Not fast enough! Call her?

Marco hadn't called Star since he left Mewni the first time, actually. She had called him after, once, when he was back on Earth, but he had missed the call. He hadn't called her after becoming a squire, either, not even as he tried to catch her in person. Somehow it hadn't felt right. The letters had seemed… safer.

He pushed the power button of his phone. His palm was sweating as the phone vibrated and beeped on. Higgs and Old Guy gave the device amazed and confused stares.

"Figures you'd have a magic compact mirror," Higgs commented with disdain, too exhausted to add anything else.

Higgs and Old Guy just stared at the boy, as he remained frozen there, his finger hovering over his best friend's picture inside the phone's contacts address book.

What if Star didn't want to talk to him still? After all, she kept promising that she would find a way to meet him, but never did actually settle on a time. What if she was still annoyed at him for interrupting her date a month ago? For showing up on her life, unannounced?

Marco looked away from his phone, and saw the old woman sitting by a fallen wooden beam, crying softly. He saw the young boys, in filthy broken down rags, staring at the damaged front of their nearby home, looking lost and confused. They probably didn't know where they would spend the night. Another woman was trying, in vain, to comfort them.

The Squire of the Wash sighed. This went beyond whatever was going on between him and Star. It was not about the two of them. It was about these people, and about Star doing her job. Wasn't that what she said was keeping her busy? Being the best princess she could be?

Marco tapped on the screen and pulled the cellphone to his right ear. It rang for a quick second and then-

"I am sorry. The mirror you have dialed has been disconnected. Please check the number and dial again. If this does not work, then perhaps the person you are calling does not wish to speak to you," came through a recorded gangly male voice. "Reflectacorp Mobile apologizes for the inconvenience. Everything is possible with Reflectacorp Mobile technology, except for completing this call!"

"So…?" asked Higgs impatiently.

So, Star had changed her mobile number? How did you even change numbers in a magic mirror? And, had she changed her number… because of him?

"It's ringing," Marco lied. "She is just, um, not answering. Let me try again."

He did. Even though he knew he would just hear the same recording again. He stood through it, in silence, trying to compose himself. The other squires would have a field day, exhausted or not, if he told them about the missing line. If they knew about how Star had basically blocked him!

"No answer," he lied again, in a daze. "I guess maybe she's asleep? I mean, it's pretty late…"

"Figures," sneered Higgs. "The princess sleeps in her queen sized bed while her people suffer… and you," She jabbed her finger at Marco's chest. "You make promises you can't deliver on. I guess my first impression was right, then, _prince_ , on both of you!"

Marco looked down sheepishly in response to that. She was technically right, after all. He felt quite guilty about letting everyone down like that.

"You know, kid," Old Guy noted. "Maybe you shouldn't have been so quick to save that lady before. Without a home, she is just going to freeze to death come winter."

He sounded matter of fact about it too, like it wasn't even his problem.

Well, it was _Marco's_ problem! He would go to the castle tomorrow morning. Then find Star, or Moon, or River, and show them the sorry state of this street. Hell, he would drag Tom into this somehow if he needed to. Someone had to help these people…

"Could we… Higgs, could _we_ rebuild that house?" he asked.

"Do you know carpentry, prince?" she countered.

Marco shook his head. He wouldn't know where to begin learning, either.

"Besides… we don't have any supplies, or any money with which to buy them."

Higgs and Old Guy exchanged a strange look then. It was as if she was asking the elderly squire for permission for something.

"How about this?" Marco extended out a hand, showing the redhead squire and her friend a stack of bills.

Higgs quickly pushed it back inside Marco's hoodie. "Don't show that around here!" she whispered rushedly into his ear. "Can't believe what kind of an idiot you are sometimes, prince! This is the Rat's End, people are desperate, they will take it if they have half the chance…"

"Yeah, sure, but, um, isn't that the idea?" he asked.

She gave him a quizzical glance.

"I mean, is not like I'd blame them. And I don't need this money. There's plenty of food at Lavabo's place to live off of, and I can always go to my parents if I really need to." he explained. "If this can help these people survive the winter, then I'd say they should take it."

"'It's not like you would blame them'?" Higgs asked, pensive. "For robbing you?"

Old Guy snickered. "Either way, it's not going to be the old lady that takes it from you, or from her, for that matter. Look, kid, if you are going to be _that_ naive, why not give the money to me… for, um… safe keeping?"

Marco got the point and closed the zipper of his hoodie, eyeing Old Guy suspiciously.

"How much do you have there anyways?" the redhead squire asked, curiously.

Marco looked at the two of them, uneasy. He then whispered into her ear. "Six hundred and fifty dollars."

She gave him a dirty look. "More than I'll probably see from Sir Stabby until the day I get knighted. And yet not _nearly_ enough to rebuild even one of these shambling stacks…"

"Isn't there anything we can do? Anything at all!?" Marco asked, angrily. What was the point of becoming a squire if he didn't have the power to help a single old lady?

Higgs seemed to hesitate for a second.

"Tell me, _prince_ , if you wouldn't blame these people for robbing you to repair their homes, would you blame them for robbing someone else?" she asked. "Someone richer? Someone who owes them a duty that was never paid? Someone who basically had it coming?"

Old Guy gave her a look, and Marco was sure he was telling her to shut up. There was something going on here, and how he responded was likely to determine how much he would learn about it.

"I'd say…" Marco whispered back, uncertain. "... it depends."

He half couldn't believe what he was saying!

"Ok, say there existed such a person," Higgs explained in hushed tones. "And say someone planned to try to rob them and then… and this is important… then spend every single speck of gold, corn, silver, or extra-dimensional currency, into helping rebuild the Rat's End. What would you do?"

"Who is this person?" Marco asked. "The one you are planning to rob."

Marco shut up immediately, realizing he said too much a little louder than he intended. At the same time, it wasn't like there were any knights patrolling around to report them. Higgs still gave him the stink eye.

"There you go! Told you trusting him with the information was a bad idea, Higgs. His Majesty probably can't keep a secret to save his life," Old Guy commented. "Too late to go back on this now, I suppose."

Truth to be told, Marco really wasn't sure about any of this. If they were going to ask him to steal from Star or her mom, then they could shove it. He'd find another way. But, considering what he had seen of some of the other nobles... if it were, say, Etheria, well... would he really be right to say no outright?

He had witnessed first hand how a lot of the castle nobles lived, contrasted with the lives of these people. It did seem mightily unfair, especially since the nobles barely worked at all, from what Marco gathered.

"We didn't say _we'd_ be robbing them. But if that were the case, what would _you_ do?" Higgs pushed.

"Look, it depends," he answered, still in hushed tones. "There is a story, a story from where I am from, in which a group of people rob the rich to give to the poor. But, even in that story, that's only moral because the rich were robbing the poor already, through impossibly high taxes and…"

He wasn't about to explain the tale of Robin Hood to the mewmans. The point was, it was sometimes the right thing to do, but not always! And didn't they sign up to defend the law as knights, rather than break it? What would Lavabo do in this situation?

"How about stealing from a man who stole from heroes? Heroes who saved the Butterfly Kingdom?" asked Old Guy suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Marco asked, more curious than ever.

"Look, _prince_ , I know you care about these people, and you really could help them, if you wanted to," she spoke. "You don't need to be with us on this. But, before we say anything else, you need to swear, at the very least, that you won't rat us out."

"I…" Marco didn't know what to say to that.

"On your honor as a squire, and I am taking a big leap of faith here in assuming you have any," Higgs sighed. "I need your word that you won't talk."

Marco looked around, once more. This seemed wrong. It seemed like the kind of decision he would later regret. But, which of the two choices would he regret the most? Keeping Higgs' secret? Or telling other knights about the fact that she was planning a robbery, without even knowing who she planned it against, when it could in fact help the people of Rat's End stay alive to the end of the year?

Besides, he had to admit, this all felt like he had gained some serious points with Higgs tonight, if she was willing to trust him with something like this...

"On my honor as a squire, I swear that I won't say a word about this to anyone," he finally said.

He had intentionally left the option open, if it was really, really bad, of _writing_ a letter to Star.

Higgs looked in every direction, and brought the other two squires close in a circle. "His name… is Count Mildrew."

It didn't ring any bells for Marco. It certainly sounded like a noble, but it wasn't one of the ones in today's delivery list.

"He owns a minor castle within the kingdom, and came across his fortune, and subsequent retirement, when his men saved Mewni from a dragon," she continued.

"Wait. That sounds pretty heroic to me," Marco noted. "What was that business about a duty he's never paid?"

Higgs motioned towards Old Guy with her eyes. The elderly squire nodded and cleared his throat.

"Look, this all happened about fifteen years ago," he begun. "A mighty dragon descended upon the southern corn fields one night, burning them to the ground, demanding tribute from all mewmans. He was a monster among monsters. The queen and king raised an army to fight him, and marched out through the Forest of Probable Itchiness, all the way to the skirts of the Musty Mountains, inside which caves the beast had made a lair upon a hoard of gold and silver…"

Marco mentally pictured Moon and River, followed by Lady Jaya, Sir Scarsguard, and, perhaps, a younger Sir Lavabo and the rest of the knights, marching south to face the monster.

"So, was this anything like the dragons Higgs tried to have assault me during the Squire Blowout?" Marco asked, eyeing the redhead. She smirked unapologetically in response.

"Oh, not even close," Old Guy said. "Let me put it this way, kid, There are 'dragons', like the domesticated ones wandering Quest Buy, and then there are **dragons**."

Yeah, so, probably a lot scarier. "Fair enough, but I imagine Moon still managed to kill it?" he asked.

"No, she didn't. But, despite what some might think of royalty," Old Guy looked at Higgs with an open grin, "she _did_ have an excuse. You see, the queen was pregnant at the time. She went into labor just as they were within a few hours march of the lair of the beast. It was the worst timing imaginable."

Wait. Fifteen years ago? That _had_ to be Star! Holy Crap! Moon was pregnant with Star and still marched forward to defend her kingdom from a freaking dragon! How did Higgs _not_ see how much the queen cared about her people, from that fact alone?

"With the queen out of commission for the night, and the king by her side, it was up to the knights of Mewni to coordinate the attack. If they waited until morning, the dragon might attack their camp, and the royal family would be killed," Old Guy explained. "The highest ranking person there, other than the queen and king, was Count Mildrew. He was chosen to march his men first, to scout the area. And march them he did… right back towards the Butterfly Kingdom! The coward abandoned his people and his queen, out of fear of confronting the dragon without magic by his side."

"Wait. If he deserted, then how come you said his men saved Mewni from the dragon?" Marco asked.

Of course, if the story so far was right, he already didn't like that guy, and would have agreed to anything Higgs was planning to do to him. Abandoning Star to danger as a newborn baby was enough to put anyone on Marco's permanent shit list!

"Heh. Well, the next morning the dragon didn't go for the camp," Old Guy continued. "It flew directly at Count Mildrew and his retreating contingent, and he was _forced_ to fight. And by 'fight' I mean cower under a tree, whimpering as his men slayed the dragon. They won that day, but only one in four made it out alive. While he took the dragon's treasure hoard and the glory for his 'leadership', their families barely got their sons and husbands' corpses back." The elder squire shrugged.

"That sounds horrible!" Marco exclaimed. "Sure, _if_ that's true, I'd see why someone like that would have it coming, but, um, why tell me?"

"Corn, you are slow, _prince!_ " Higgs interjected. "Mildrew has his own castle. He keeps the treasure there. We need a way in, and, more importantly, a way out, with as many coins as we can carry. Believe me, he won't even notice them missing…"

Oh. Of course! Higgs knew he had…

"My dimensional scissors?" he confirmed.

She nodded.

Marco paused for a moment. Was he seriously considering it? Becoming a thief? Was that proper behavior for one who wished to become a knight? Would Star approve of that? Marco thought that she might have, if she knew the full story. Then again, maybe if she knew the whole story, she could just seize the guy's funds and use them to repair the Rat's End. But, that assumed Marco would be able to contact her. And, if that story was true, then why had Moon not punished the man… did she just not know?

"Wait, I need some time to think," the Squire of the Wash explained. "Besides, I need to know that this is all true. Is this public knowledge? Why hasn't the queen done anything about it before?"

Higgs rolled her eyes. "It is _not_ public knowledge. The queen never talked to the men who were with Mildrew, she just talked to the count, and he sold her a _very_ different tale, I am sure. But while he has his own castle, some of the soldiers that actually slayed the dragon now live in places like this. For many, that fight ended their careers. Those who didn't lose an arm or a leg, ended up too terrified to ever leave the city. But nobody talks to us, nobody that can do anything about the injustices of today or of fifteen years ago. Do you think the knights of today would care about an incident that happened more than a decade ago?"

"Ok, ok. But, um, can I maybe meet one of those men who fought the dragon?" Marco asked. "Just to confirm this version of the story."

"You already have, Marco," Higgs whispered.

"I was there," Old Guy explained, the years seeming to weight heavily on him all of a sudden. "In Mildrew's entourage, fifteen years ago. Barely made it alive."

* * *

It wasn't until late that night, or, rather, early next morning, that Marco made it back home. He could've used the scissors to portal to his room, but the squire really needed the long walk. It gave him time alone to think about the decision he now had to make.

He thought the contemplation would calm his nerves, but it had only succeeded at putting him further on edge.

The walk, and the full day and night of work before, had also caused the young squire to work up quite an appetite. Before retreating into his room in the eastern annex, he really wanted something to eat, and that meant going into the main building's kitchen.

Actually, screw that! Marco was still a jumbled mess of anxiety and didn't want to risk running into Lavabo. It was probably safer portaling to some 24/7 convenience store in Echo Creek somewhere. Not to _steal_ food, of course, but to _purchase_ it with the money he had _legally obtained_ …

"What troubles you, Marco Diaz?"

Marco jumped to the side, startled. He glanced around nervously, looking for roaming Elmbeasts or the like, before he realized no such creature would have called his name. Instead, he spotted a shadowy bearded figure, slowly standing up from within the tall grass. As the man lifted himself from his crouching position, the dimly lit silhouette revealed itself to be… Sir Lavabo?

"It was not my intention to startle you, Marco Diaz. I apologise."

"Sir? What are you doing here?" Marco asked, confused and slightly annoyed.

Lavabo lifted an eyebrow, which Marco could barely see thanks to how dark it was.

"I suppose I could be asking _you_ the very same question…"

Marco gulped. He walked right into that one. If only he had kept his stupid mouth shut.

The old knight suddenly started chuckling at his charge. "Do not look so guilty, my young squire. It does not suit you. I may be your superior under Butterfly Castle, but here you are your own man, and how you spend your nights away from the Wash is, frankly, none of my business!"

Marco gave a sigh of relief. Still, he had to ask… "I mean, I was gone for awhile, Sir. You must have been _somewhat_ concerned for where I was?"

"Perhaps I was, but you had already left with the last of the laundry that needed to be delivered. You performed you duty admirably, and that's all I ask of you. Thankfully, Artax Ed and I cleaned the garment goblins' mess and managed to deliver all the specialty articles of clothing before 6:00, with twenty-seven seconds to spare!"

As Lavabo said that, the elder got on his knees and began roaming his hands through the tall courtyard grass, presumably to resume whatever he was doing before Marco came through.

Well, at least things had worked out on Lavabo's end. Marco had been concerned for his mentor the entire day, actually, even while evacuating the Rat's End denizens away from the collapsed building. Going overtime was apparently a fate worse than death to the man, so Marco would have hated himself if his absence had cause such an event, even _if_ he was away for the noblest of causes.

"Ah, Ha! Found another one!" Lavabo shouted exuberantly as he lifted a metal device off the ground.

It was one of the many active bear traps that we're scattered throughout the sprawling property. Lavabo grabbed both sets of metal teeth with his protective gloves, and separated both ends of the trap from each other. The iron contraption creaked, it's spring tensed to its limit under the knight's vigorous pull. A moment later, the entire thing was torn apart into two motionless pieces.

"You're… going around dismantling animal traps?" Marco asked. I mean, it's not like he _minded_ those safety hazards finally being taken care of. The squire was getting a little sick of treating his front yard like a game of minesweeper.

"Aye, I believe this is long overdue. Some of these traps go all the way back to the earliest skirmishes between the Butterfly knights and the Johansen warriors many decades ago, but, they serve no purpose today."

Lavabo picked up the pieces of the trap and threw them into a bag that was nearly filled to the top. Had he been doing this all night!?

"Sir, or uh, Lavabo. I don't want to be a nag, but we're going back to work in a few hours. I think this can wait another day." He had already worked himself to the bone cleaning up the day's mess with one less squire.

Lavabo didn't respond right away. He simply sighed and sat down, looking over at the main building.

"I'm well aware, Marco Diaz, but recently I find myself restless all the same. The Wash demands so much from us, both physically and mentally, yet, instead of using the few precious hours we're granted to sleep, I've become increasingly worried about the state of our home."

"The state of our home? You mean the manor?" Marco asked.

"Everything inside and out." Lavabo answered. "Artax Ed may be small, but as he grows into a stallion, he'll need more open space in which to run around. That is why finding every last one of these ancient traps is paramount! And after that, I planned on clearing out the area of all this unpleasant overgrown grass."

Marco smiled. Okay, that made sense, and was awfully nice of Lavabo to do that for the Wash's official steed.

"As for the manor itself, I feel ashamed for letting it's condition deteriorate so much over the years. All the furniture needs to be replaced, I've been overly cordial to the cockroaches who keep stealing our food, and certain parts of the roof are ready to collapse at any given moment."

This was probably a bad time to mention how there was _already_ a giant hole in Marco's ceiling…

"I have lived this way for a long time and never minded it, but... things are different now. The Wash's family has grown in an unprecedented amount of time, and as the head of the household, I feel that it is my sole responsibility to provide the best shelter possible for my new companions…"

"I-it's not that bad, Lavabo," Marco said, in a lame attempt to comfort his mentor. "I'm not disgusted with living here or anything!" Um, that had sounded way better inside his head. He hadn't meant to sound ungrateful, doubly so after he remembered the houses in the Rat's End. "It's all super roomy, and fresh smelling, and remarkably solid. Even the annex... and, hey, I can help you fix the place up if you want."

Lavabo looked up at the human. "I would appreciate that greatly, Marco Diaz. Housekeeping has never been my strong suit. My sisters were always the ones in charge of that responsibility, until…" he suddenly went quiet.

Marco took an uneasy breath. He had been wondering what became of Lavabo's family ever since he told the story of his first Squire Blowout. After hearing Eclipsa's words regarding the dangers of the Wash, well, Marco had a pretty good idea of what happened to them.

"Did your sisters… lose their lives in the line of duty?" Marco asked nervously, gripping the sides of his hoodie. It was an awkward question to ask, but, well, Lavabo was his friend, and of course the boy wanted to be there for his grieving friend!

Lavabo blinked. "Pardon?"

"Um… you know. Did your siblings... die... while fighting off some monster in the Wash that was too much for them?"

"Marco Diaz! I'll have you know that I visit my brothers and sisters every Stump Day without exception," Lavabo exclaimed, crossing his arms. "Are you alright? It isn't like you to make such morbid assumptions like this. Perhaps I _should_ be worried about where you go and who you associate with after hours? I fear they may be a bad influence to you."

Lavabo had no idea. But, more to the point. "I'm sorry! It's just, I don't know, you never receive any mail that's addressed to you specifically, and you sometimes have this solemn expression whenever you talk about your time with them. I just assumed that if your family _was_ alive today, they'd be working in the Wash alongside their brother. I'm sorry I took it that far..." In a way, with that and the risks already associated with the Wash, Lavabo had the perfect setup for a tragic backstory.

The elder sighed. "Death is not the only way one can leave the Wash, you know. Contact with my siblings is indeed limited, due to them leaving this world, but not in the way you have imagined."

'Leaving this world?' Could he mean…?

"It's true, we were all raised by Sir Hanger to one day take over the Wash as a family, and for a short few years after my promotion, we were all fellow laundry knights, sharing both blood and a common cause."

For a moment, Lavabo's face glowed with a warm expression of nostalgia, visible even through the darkness, before grimacing into a sullen frown.

"But that joyous era did not last long. Eventually, my oldest sister saved up enough money to purchase a pair of dimensional scissors. She bought them from the local descendants of a brave hero who had earned them generations earlier. They were simple farmers, who were more than happy to let go of their family heirloom for the generous amount she was offering. As soon as the transaction was complete, she announced to us her retirement from the Wash."

"Where did she go with the scissors?" Marco asked curiously.

"I am not even sure Iscrubella herself knew where she wanted to go initially, but she always had such an adventurous spirit. I imagine she spent the first few years exploring the worlds that were described in the books she read as a squire. As her journey went on, she met a fellow who partook in map making, and together they charted undiscovered dimensions and would sell their work to the Magic High Commission. They have been married for forty-five years now."

"Well, Iscrubella seemed like a woman who lived her life to the fullest." Marco said, trying to ignore how ridiculous the name was.

"Ah, I would have to agree with you, Marco Diaz. Soon after Iscrubella left, the rest of my siblings shared their collective desire to one day leave the Order of the Wash. To pursue other possible careers. Careers outside Mewni, that is."

Lavabo once again looked over at the manor.

"My father didn't take this well. He desperately wanted to keep the family together, but there was nothing he could do. He understood, more than anyone, that this was a long time coming. Once my two brothers and remaining sister located another pair of scissors, they left the Wash together. Sir Hanger cursed Quest Buy for cleaving us apart."

"Quest Buy?" Marco said, confused at the seemingly random non sequitur.

"That is where it all began, during their respective squire blowouts," Lavabo said. "While I feared the strange and unfamiliar, my siblings embraced it! Craved it even. As they were exposed to the obscurities and chaos of Quest Buy, they realized just how big and varied the multiverse was, and how, perhaps, there was a special lifelong post out there awaiting them. They wouldn't know unless they tried."

"Wow," Marco said. It really put into perspective how many mewmans probably had no idea what was outside their kingdom. Then again, Marco himself wasn't much different from them until the day he met Star. If he hadn't been assigned to be Star's Earth guide, he would still be ignorant of the wider multiverse today.

"That is probably the real reason I was blindfolded for my blowout," Lavabo confessed after a short pause. "In a desperate attempt to keep at least one of his children in the Wash, so he could leave some kind of legacy, Sir Hanger gave me a much harder task, but, to him, my continued ignorance was well worth the risk of failure."

Marco stayed silent, though he wondered if this was something Lavabo had only just realized about his father's motivations. Maybe the old knight knew all along, and was either finally coming to terms with it, or had just gotten to the point of trusting Marco enough to admit the darker side of his father's own devotion to the Wash.

Thinking about it, Lavabo's life _could_ have been a lot different if he was allowed to look into and pursue other interests, instead of being tethered to the Wash by Sir Hanger. It was kind of sad when you thought about it.

But... no! Marco shouldn't think of it that way! Lavabo was never forced to stay in the Wash for the rest of his life! Sir Hanger may have been pushy, sure, but ultimately it was the laundry knight's sense of honor and duty that kept him in the Wash. Right?

"It's the most peculiar thing, Marco Diaz," Lavabo began. "Based on past experiences, I always assumed the Wash lacked a certain something to those with means of dimensional travel, not that I could blame them. Yet, here you are, with your own pair of scissors. You could go anywhere in the universe, and yet, you choose to spend your time here. I… am greatly honored."

Marco couldn't help but get a little flustered at that.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Sir." the Squire said, feeling even more confident about the decision he had made back on the morning of this incredibly long day.

Marco would prove Janna wrong. He was in Mewni, not to escape from his problems and go on an adventure, but to embrace his new duties, to serve the kingdom, and to do good by its people.

Which only begged the question: Higgs' plan… which one was it?

Was it his duty to the people of Mewni to help those who lived in the Rat's End, no matter the means? Was it a selfish adventure and a betrayal of his duties to the Wash if he willingly committed a crime, even against a deserving target, even for a good cause? The decision to stay had been the right one, but his other choice seemed far less clear.

He looked up, to Sir Lavabo, still beaming proudly at his squire's response. As much as the old knight had trusted him with that family story, Marco still couldn't quite bring himself to ask him in return for guidance with his other choice.

There was only one person he could trust with something like that...

* * *

 _Hey Star._

 _Oh man, talk about a crazy day I just had. A lot went on. It's actually a little overwhelming trying to process it all, but I guess the main thing is that I got to see a lot of friends I haven't seen in a while, in addition to a few new faces. Being a replacement Delivery Mewman for a day does that to you, I guess._

He stared at the full moon through his bedroom ceiling for a moment as he thought of what to say first. It probably wouldn't do to jump straight to the issue. Would it? A lot of things had indeed happened that day. Maybe he ought to start with some of those, and _then_ transition into the complicated stuff?

 _So, let's see..._

 _Well, you already saw Janna before you sent your letter this morning, so of course she swung by the Wash to basically mess with me for half an hour. The reunion ended on a bit of a sour note, actually. Turns out Janna misses us on Earth more than I reasonably expected, and she didn't take kindly to the fact I was serious about becoming a knight and staying here for the whole year. I'm sure she'll get over it eventually, but man was she not happy about it!_

 _I also ran into Ruberiot during my deliveries. Is him still working in the castle just something completely out of your control? Nah, just kidding! That was a joke, obviously. I don't think you'd be petty enough to fire him over that stuff he pulled for your Song Day. You were never the type to hold a grudge that badly, for most people anyway..._

 _I saw Tom too. I guess you also know that by now, and it's not like it lasted that long but it was still nice to talk to him again. Hope things are going well between you two._

 _Speaking of 'talking to people again,' I tried calling you a few hours ago and apparently you switched your mirror number? You never gave me your new number. So, could you remedy that, please? I was kind of in an emergency tonight and could have really used some help! Also being able to call you again will make planning a meet up a lot more feasible. Something to consider, I guess._

Ugh, Marco didn't know how to make it better, but that paragraph was just dripping with desperation. Though he couldn't be blamed for being a little peeved at Star. He really was in the middle of an emergency when he called her! Um, moving on...

 _I digress. I finally got to meet Eclipsa for the first time. Nice lady. Very weird, but she also had a lot of good qualities. She's very charming, funny and also… surprisingly not racist? Okay, that last one is less a compliment and more something you'd expect from any decent person, but I guess there's something refreshing about her position on certain topics. I definitely see why you'd put your trust in her while the rest of your family wouldn't._

 _Like, crap, I also met your grand-aunt Etheria again, can't imagine what her opinion is on monsters, not would I want to…_

Marco struck-out that last sentence, then blotted it out completely with ink. He had no love for that woman, but he also wasn't sure he wanted to go off on a mean-spirited _written_ rant to Star about someone who was, after all, family. Besides, he had more urgent things he wanted to write to his best friend about tonight.

 _Anyway, Star, I have something serious I need to discuss. I'd prefer doing this over the phone with you or, God forbid, in person, but I'm working with what I got. If you get this before going to bed I won't mind if you wait til tomorrow to respond like always._

Marco took a deep breath and began writing his scattered thoughts.

 _So there's this place in Mewni I went to called Rat's End. Suffice to say, it's a neighborhood that has seen better days. It received a good chunk of the damage during the weeks Ludo took over the kingdom, and the buildings there never really recovered from that time. Have you been there? These aren't just random businesses either, Star. These are people's entire homes, and a lot of them are barely standing or were destroyed entirely._

 _Now look, I know you're doing your part to help your kingdom, and I understand that you're only one person, and are doing the best you can. You have limited time and resources, and I can't really offer anything that proves Rat's End should be a higher priority than the districts you've already restored. There might even be a few neighborhoods that are **worse** off. I don't know._

 _But, from what I saw, there's a lot of people in Rat's End that don't believe in you, or the Queen, for that matter. They've given up on waiting for the throne to help them in their time of need, and are either in a state of giving up, or are planning to make things better on their own terms._

 _There's this person that you may have heard of. They own their own castle, and haven't worked in a very long time. They're considered a hero, but that's apparently a lie. This person never was who they claimed to be, and has been living off of stolen valor for over fifteen years._

 _Some of the people in Rat's End have decided to steal from this phony, in order to pay for repairs to people's homes, and to make things more complicated: they're also squires! People who have dedicated their lives to defending the laws of Mewni are preparing to disregard them, so they can steal from a person they deem unworthy of their wealth. And they're doing this not because they're evil, but because they think it's the only conceivable way most mewmans can survive winter in Rat's End._

 _This whole situation is messed up, and I'm constantly struggling to decide if what my fellow squires are doing *is* the right thing. They certainly picked someone who is, well, deserving of losing a few gems and gold bars, and it's not like it would destroy their livelihood. But if he really didn't slay that dragon, then let's bring him to trial instead!_

Shit! Marco just realized he forgot to use 'they' and 'them' in that last sentence, and had accidentally referenced the dragon! Whatever. He could always edit that later.

 _I do think the squires are doing what they think is right, but does that really matter? Everyone thinks they're doing the right thing all the time. Even Toffee, in his own fucked-up head, probably thought he was doing the right thing by trying to destroy magic and your kingdom._

 _I guess I'm just upset this is happening to begin with. People should be able to have faith in their rulers, especially squires! They shouldn't feel the need to resort to stealing from each other. I see a lot of potential in these squires, too. One in particular I begrudgingly look up to, and I don't want them to make a mistake that may possibly ruin their life._

 _So, I don't know, could you make it so they don't have a reason to steal in the first place? I know I'm asking a lot, but all you have to do is come to Western Rat's End tomorrow, give a little speech or two, and then use your new house magic to reconstruct the buildings that have fallen. I'll even gather all the wood that's been scattered around so you have materials to work with. I'll_

Marco stopped writing.

What was he doing!?

Was he really in the process of begging Star via written letter to fix a bunch of buildings on the grounds that it may prevent a robbery by his peers?

Going into the letter, Marco assumed that as long as he explained himself, Star would help him no matter what. But... was that really the case?

Even if he intentionally opted to leave out names, what if Star demanded that he spill the beans afterwards? After all, if stopping a robbery from happening was the main concern, then why not just arrest the traitorous mewmans instead of jump starting a whole new construction project? It was a simple solution that she could reasonably come up with. It wasn't even, necessarily, wrong.

Star was the future queen of Mewni, and had her own way of doing things. She didn't need someone to intrude on her life again, and dictate how she should do things. Marco wasn't asking his best friend for help, he was a squire making demands to the Princess of Mewni (who was now, at best, a distant pen pal!).

And what about Higgs? Even if Star decided to help out in Rat's End, was it really worth the risk of destroying the trust the other squire had given him. He had promised not to say a word. As to the conceit that he was writing, rather than speaking? That was still basically riding a freaking warnicorn through the _spirit_ of that promise!

With a final, exhausted, sigh, Marco used his scissors to open a portal, and threw the unfinished incriminating letter through the swirling gateway. He heard the distinct sound of paper burning to smoke almost instantly, as it fell to the lava in the middle of Quest Buy's tropical volcano feature, the same one from which he had eventually failed to rescue Star's palm tree costume. As soon as he was certain the letter was gone, he closed back the portal..

The squire got up from his desk and fell on his bed. As he drifted into sleep, he reminded himself how he still had three days. Three days to figure this all out. Three days to make sure he knew right from wrong.

It was harder than he would have thought.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hey guys! While Star vs. is indeed ending this coming weekend, let it be known that the adventure of Marco the Laundry Squire shall continue!

Apologies for the delays. One of our two authors (me) has recently bought his first house, and is currently dealing with all the stress and headaches that comes with, so we greatly appreciate your patience!


	14. Chapter 14: 'Robbin' Hoodie'

The three days had come and gone, and Marco was every bit as conflicted about his decision as he had been right after writing the letter to Star. The letter he _didn't_ send. If anything, he had more doubts now and, even worse, they went in both directions!

Higgs, Old Guy, and him had settled on tonight, at least partly because it was Marco's day off from the Wash. It meant there was very little chance that he would be held up late by his duties, like he was the other night with the deliveries. It further made it less likely that him coming back home late that night would strike Sir Lavabo as odd, or even notable. Sure, the old knight had already said that he considered Marco's business his own, but that extra layer of inconspicuousness was never a bad thing!

Then again, there was a downside to it actually being his day off. It meant that Marco had plenty of time to stew in his own doubts. Without the work of the Wash keeping his mind occupied, it had instead spent the entire morning rehashing the same never-ending arguments, for and against the robbery.

It was fortunate, then, that Marco had already made plans for lunch that same day, well before the whole Count Mildrew thing came up. Normal, ordinary, _unsuspicious_ plans...

"So, what do you think, Marco?" Nicholas asked, biting into a delectable looking, albeit predictably _corn-based muffin_. "Isn't this place great?"

The question brought Marco back to the present, sitting next to Nick and Timore as they enjoyed lunch together.

Well… his squire friends were enjoying their meals, at least. He had ordered the beef pie, and it was, um, 'alright'. The meat pieces inside were pretty tasty, but the outer crust left a lot to be desired. It was too thick and undercooked to be edible, never mind the fact that it was, of course, made from corn. Marco soon found himself discreetly peeling it off the top when the blonde boy wasn't looking, and eating just the filling.

Maybe that was how you were _supposed_ to do it? Perhaps the pastry was only there to keep the meaty parts inside warm? That way, if you didn't finish it here, you could have it later in the day? That made sense, actually. This section of the Butterfly Kingdom was no Rat's End, but basic food storage still seemed like it would have been a luxury item for the locals.

"It's... pretty good!" Marco said, in his best attempt at enthusiasm. He had eaten better. _Way_ better, in fact. But Nick had been hyping up this place since they met up this morning, and he didn't want to come off as ungrateful. Nick was treating him and Timore, after all!

Satisfied at his fellow squire's reaction, Nick smiled light-heartedly. "'The Hungry Brute' is the pride and joy of Southern Goblin's Claw! I was so depressed when the rats destroyed it, but after the owners announced their reopening, I got reservations for the three of us as soon as possible!"

That must have been quite the accomplishment. The outside eating area they were in was _packed_. Not a single table was open, and the inside probably didn't fare much better. Beyond the people sitting to eat, the Brute's take-out window acted as the start to a long line of impatient but excited mewmans, which extended well out of view from where they sat. This place really was a big deal!

"Morale around here certainly seems to have increased," Timore noted, trying her best to ignore the gazes from the other patrons. "Nicholas, didn't Queen Moon repair this area recently?"

Nick grinned. "Yup! She did a good job coordinating the carpenters. Now that they're done, the local businesses are running again, which means that those of us in Goblin's Claw can start making a living again!"

Even before the explanation, Marco had a feeling that Star and Moon had been hard at work here.

Okay, the various buildings singing Love Sentence songs had been a pretty obvious clue. But even if it wasn't for that, you could definitely tell by looking at the general mood of everyone around.

The reopening of The Hungry Brute meant much more than just another place to eat. It symbolized a complete recovery from Ludo's Invasion, at least for this part of town. The people here were happy, bustling with activity, and finally looking forward to the future. The squire wondered if, before the end of the week, the citizens of Rat's End would be wearing the same optimistic expressions...

"Are you all done? Need anything wrapped?" a friendly but rather hurried voice interrupted his thoughts.

The human turned. It was the same waitress who had taken their order, a young mewman girl around their own age. She had stopped by their table once again, to ask if they wanted anything to go. Marco skipped on the offer, giving the unfinished beef pie one last unenthused look before handing his plate over.

"I'll take a bag for this, if you don't mind," Timore said, holding out her bowl for the girl. She had specifically asked the waitress if she could get a salad, despite it not being on the menu. The girl had eventually returned with, among Marco's beef pie and Nick's muffin, a bowl of grass. Surprisingly, Timore didn't seem much bothered by the dish or the gesture.

"Um, sure. Whatever." The mewman reluctantly took the bowl and two plates, and quickly retreated inside the restaurant.

"The poor girl. It must be stressful serving so many people on such a busy day," Timore lamented, leaning in for a whisper. "I didn't want to say anything, but there was a bit of dirt on that salad. She must have dropped it on the way to our table."

The two boys looked at her in disbelief. Marco considered mentioning the more likely explanation, but he couldn't bring himself to dash the demon girl's good mood.

"So… I've been meaning to ask," Marco began, trying to change the subject. "How has squire-life been for the two of you? I'm always in the Wash, obviously, but where are your knights usually stationed?"

Nick answered first. "Well, Lady Jaya is the sole attendant of the castle's weapon chamber. If you don't count me, that is. Together, we maintain the Order of the Armory."

Ah, so every knight _did_ have their own specific order to uphold. That certainly made Lavabo's station somewhat less unique. Marco could totally envision Nick and his knight going through their own little misadventures in the armory. Perhaps they once had to fight off an infestation of gauntlet yetis or something, the human let himself imagine, dramatically. Whatever it was, it was probably better than battling freaking knickers gnomes…

Then another thought occurred to him. "But, wait. Lavabo is the one that cleans every knight's armor. So, where does Jaya come in the picture?" Marco asked, a little confused.

"Lady Jaya's work in the Armory goes way beyond simple cleaning," Nick commented, before looking slightly embarrassed. "Er, no offense to you or Sir Lavabo."

"None taken." Marco had heard worse. Specifically from Higgs.

Nick nodded. "Anyway, despite the name, it's less about the _armor_ part, and has more to do with the kingdom's weapons. Basically, while there are certain knights who already have their own signature weapon…"

Like Sir Lavabo's enchanted clothes iron, or even Stabby with his vorpal sword, Marco thought.

"...and there are knights who solely rely on their squire for obtaining gear via the Squire Blowout, those two instances are pretty uncommon. Most of the knights in Mewni don't have or even want a squire, so whenever they need weapons, Lady Jaya is the first person they go to."

Marco blinked. "So they… rent knight gear from her?"

"That's one way to put it, though that might be an over-simplification." Nick said. "Keep in mind that the kingdom has a massive shortage of supplies, ever since Ludo's attack. Weapons and armor are no exception, sadly."

"I can attest to that as well, Marco" Timore said, chiming in. "Sir Thorncloak doesn't let me use any of the weapons from his collection, so every morning, before guard-duty begins, I go to the armory to take something for the day."

Huh, pretty weird that a knight wouldn't let his own squire borrow a weapon, especially when they apparently had a freaking _collection!_ Well, it might not be such a surprise in this particular case, though. Marco had only met Sir Thorncloak briefly, but he really didn't seem like the nicest fellow.

Timore continued. "Lady Jaya usually gives me this magic claymore that was forged by selkies in the Waterfolk Kingdom. She says that, when submerged in water, the claymore is practically weightless, but on dry land, it is roughly three hundred pounds."

Marco lifted a surprised eyebrow at that. Would Lady Jaya _really_ be that cruel to poor Timore?

It seemed the prejudices of the kingdom extended even to the unusually perceptive weapons master, let alone the other knights. The fact that Timore was a demon instead of a monster probably made little difference to Jaya. A similar sentiment might also explain why Sir Thorncloak had such a hands-off approach to mentoring his squire as well.

Marco was about to express his annoyance, but then he looked at Timore's huge arms. He remembered how, during the Squire Blowout, she had taken the full force the Baby Man's iron mace, without even flinching.

"Ah. I get it." Marco had a brief epiphany. "No normal mewman could ever hold such a heavy weapon, let alone wield it effectively. But to Timore, it's practically nothing, because of her freakish demon strength!"

Nick smiled at his friend's assessment.

"'F-freakish?'" Timore said self-consciously. The flames around her skull started to turn into a much brighter tint of red, specifically around the cheek bones.

"Er, well, I meant that as a compliment. Most squires would love to be just as strong as you, Timore! In fact, I myself find your strength downright inspirational!" Oh boy, Marco hoped he wasn't overselling it.

Thankfully, his words seemed to be the right mix of genuine praise and over-exaggeration, as Timore (and her flames) began to calm down after hearing that. "O-oh. I see. I'm... honored you feel that way about me, Marco. Though I can't really give much to you in terms of... pointers. I guess it's just… a natural talent of mine." she laughed nervously, running a hand down her bulky forearm.

"You're right, though," Nick said, turning to Marco. "Lady Jaya doesn't just give you any old sword and shield. If it were that easy, anyone could do it."

Marco chuckled. "Alright, so she's a lot more than a weapon's lender. And, knowing her, you probably aren't allowed to pick and choose your own weapon, right?"

Nick nodded. "Of course not! There's a lot of knights here that don't think very practically. They usually just want the flashiest weapon or the one with the most fame around it. Many have practically begged Lady Jaya to let them try that claymore for a day, but she knows better than to humor their little fantasies of wielding something so heavy. She understands, more than anyone, that each person has their own strengths and weaknesses, and the same goes for the weapons. She'll assess you for a little bit, sometimes testing you with a few sample weapons, and will pick the best match for you based on that. Timore got the claymore because Jaya knew she was the only one who could handle it, and now that it isn't collecting dust in the Armory anymore, that frees up another basic weapon for someone else to use."

As Nick talked at length about his knight, the boy beamed with a sort of pride by association. It was a feeling Marco himself was quite familiar with. Besides, he certainly couldn't help but agree that Lady Jaya had a knack for analysing people and their abilities. He had experienced that first hand, back when he first met her, even if that hadn't been weapons-related. That probably extended to the enemies she had faced throughout the years as well, making her quite the formidable knight.

Not that Marco was jealous, or anything. In fact, it made him happy that his friend was in such capable hands.

"I was wondering, Nicholas. What kind of weapon has Lady Jaya given you? If you, uh, don't mind me asking…" Timore inquired.

Nick's face dropped at that, as if the simple question had taken him completely off guard. "Um, _my_ … weapon?"

"Y-yes. _Your_ weapon." Timore fidgeted a little. "I-I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I suppose no matter what weapon you've had, it would never be as impressive as the Selkie Claymore, so I'm sorry if you feel self-conscious about answering that question."

Timore's heart was in the right place with that statement, but it obviously only made Nick feel worse. Marco was starting to get curious as well.

The boy gulped. "Listen, guys. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I need you two to promise not to tell this to anyone. It's… beyond embarrassing."

"No problem, dude. You can tell us whatever, and we won't repeat it to anyone," Marco said reassuringly. What the hell had Jaya given him? Was it some sort of sword with a phallic blade? That would at least fit the description of 'beyond embarrassing.'

Nick took a deep breath. "Alright, well, the truth is… she hasn't given me a weapon yet."

"Oh. That's it?" Timore asked.

"Yes, that's it. That's been _it_ since I became a squire," Nick said, clasping his forehead. "On the very first day I went into the Armory, and met Lady Jaya for the first time. She took one look at me and, without even giving me a chance to prove myself, said with the utmost confidence that there wasn't a single weapon there I was capable of wielding."

Ouch. That must have been harsh to hear from your own knight, _and_ on your first day, no less.

"Well, to be fair, Sir Lavabo hasn't given me any weapons, either," Marco said, trying to dispel the other squire's fears. A lot of the cleaning implements in the Wash were pretty dangerous, but even the Phoenix Flakes detergent wasn't _technically_ a weapon. The closest thing that Lavabo had given Marco to a sword was a steel reinforced _mop_.

"Sorry, Marco, but that's not the same. Sir Lavabo gives you the exact instruments you need for your tasks. Plus, you already have dimensional scissors," Nick argued. "Besides, the worst part is: she's _right_. While she was busy helping a knight one day, I snuck into the back and tried out a cool looking bow. The string was so tight that I could barely pull it an inch, never mind draw it fully! I realized then why she's been training me all hours of the day. Compared to, say, Higgs or Baby Man, I'm really weak."

Marco and Timore looked at each other in worry.

"Nick, being strong isn't everything," Marco began, before backtracking. "I mean, yeah, it helps a lot, but you're really resourceful and smart, which also counts for something. During the Blowout, I would have been out of the race before it even started, if you hadn't loaned me your screwing machine when my cart broke down."

"I guess…" Nick said. "But Lady Jaya doesn't care for my inventions. She considers them toys and a waste of my time."

"Well, with no offense to Lady Jaya…" Marco did a quick visual scope of the eating area, to make sure she wasn't around for some reason. "But she isn't right about everything. Knights like her and Sir Lavabo are pretty old fashioned, and have their own way of doing things. They are experienced, but that doesn't mean they always know what's best. Nick, you should keep making inventions because, one day, you could make something revolutionary, something that could help the entire kingdom, something so great it'll even impress _her_. Most importantly, though, inventing things makes you happy, so that alone is good enough of a reason to keep at it."

"Heh, I do like making whatever weird thing pops up in that head of mine," Nick said, slightly flustered. "But what if being a squire isn't right for me? I only really became one so I could help my family get by, but now that Goblin's Claw is repaired…"

"Hey, don't start thinking about quitting on us," Marco said sternly. "Don't forget that we're all squires in _training_. You still have time to prove yourself, but you won't get there if you consider leaving every time you get discouraged."

Nick stared at Marco for a second, but then clenched his fist with confidence. "Right, I'll do my best to become a great knight, _and_ a great inventor. Lady Jaya won't know what hit her!"

Marco looked over to Timore, and while the demon was incapable of smiling (or was she _always_ smiling? Her sharp pearly whites were ever on display, after all), the dancing sparks in her eye-sockets gave off an overjoyed expression.

The mood, however, was abruptly ended when a small piece of paper was slammed against the table.

"Sorry about the wait. Crazy busy today! A...are you ready to pay?" It was their waitress, who was now sweating from all the running around and maneuvering through guests she had to do.

"I got it," Nick said, reaching in his satchel for his money.

"Um, did you ever wrap up my salad?" Timore asked.

The waitress kept her eyes on Nick rummaging through his bag, as if Timore wasn't even there. "Oh yeah. The owner's pet pig-goat got hungry, so I fed him. My bad. Go eat a baby if you're still hungry, Ms. Monster. Just go do that, _elsewhere_."

Unfortunately, there was absolutely no way the demon could misinterpret _that_. Timore flinched at the girl's harsh words, as if they had physically hurt her as well as emotionally. She didn't say anything in response to the biting remark, though. Instead, Timore took out her purse, placed a small ruby on the table, and excused herself, thanking the girl for her service.

Marco and Nick ran out after her as soon as the bill was paid.

* * *

"Ugh, I'm so sorry she treated you that way, Timore," Nick apologized profusely, walking alongside the demon squire. "I could send a formal complaint? Make the owners fire her?"

Nick obviously felt pretty responsible for what happened, since he was the one that took them out for lunch there to begin with. Timore made it clear she was already over it, and would rather just see the new shops in Goblin's Claw with her friends, but Nick was insistent on making it up to her somehow.

"I don't want to ruin that girl's livelihood over an insult, especially during times like these. That would just worsen her opinion of me," Timore said. "Please don't burden yourselves over it anymore. I'm quite happy with how I handled the situation, actually."

"Really? How so?" Marco asked. Timore's reaction, while perhaps too passive for his liking, was at least a lot more graceful than how another certain demon would have responded, so he'd give her that.

"This type of interaction is nothing new to us. You see, ever since our kind first rose from the Underworld, demons were unfairly compared to monsters by nearly everyone." The girl chuckled at the apparently ridiculous notion. "The Lucitor family tried to combat this discrimination by forming alliances with the royalty of other kingdoms. Things seemed like they were going smoothly, until one fateful dinner with the Johansen family, where their King accidentally called Queen Erinya Lucitor 'monster-ish.'"

"What happened after he said that?" Nick asked, in anticipation.

Marco didn't even feel the need to ask. Not due to a lack of interest, but rather because he already had a good idea of the aftermath…

"W-Well, Erinya decapitated him on the spot, in front of his wife and children." Timore admitted tensely.

"O-oh," Nick said.

Called it.

"Suffice to say, it was a political nightmare for everyone involved. As news of the dinner spread, every other kingdom began fearing that the monstrous demons would come out of the ground and chop their heads off. Every kingdom except for the Pony Heads, I suppose."

Marco could think of at least two different reasons for that.

"Erinya Lucitor was notoriously stubborn, and did not feel like she did anything wrong. She was insulted, and acted accordingly. However, she eventually realized that in order for our people to separate ourselves from the monsters, and align ourselves with the other kingdoms of Mewni, she would need to swallow her pride and reach a peaceful resolution with the Johansens."

"Exactly! Had she been an _actual_ monster, she would've never admitted fault in the first place! That's just how monsters are." Nick said with confidence..

Marco didn't much care for Nick's comment, but decided to let Timore finish her story rather than make a big deal about it.

Also, the squire thought his friend was giving Tom's ancestor a little too much credit. Like, yeah, it's nice she probably apologized to the Johansens, but it didn't change the fact that she decapitated their king!

Timore went on. "Before Erinya confronted the Johansens one last time, she had heard a rumour that their Queen had a particular interest towards rare and valuable jewelry. So, Erinya decided to give up her family's most valuable possession as a peace offering: A one of a kind pearl necklace, said to have contained the very essence of greed itself. But, more important than that, it looked _really_ pretty!"

"So she… bribed the Johansens into forgiving her?" Marco asked, trying to sum up the resolution.

"What? N-no! Of course not…" Timore said, mildly offended. "That's… well, it may _look_ like that, on a surface level, but it's said that Erinya and Queen Johansen became good friends after the ordeal. Besides, it's not like her husband died that night. They were able to quickly stitch the king's head onto the body of his horse. Somewhat of a family tradition now, I am told. Some say he preferred living that way, and was even grateful towards Erinya. So, yes, the alliance between the demons and the Johansen tribe was one built off the foundation of genuine companionship, and the other kingdoms soon followed, after receiving additional olive branches from the Lucitors."

" _Right_." Marco said, unconvinced. He was no gambling man, but the human was willing to bet his royalty checks that those 'olive branches' were just more priceless jewels. In a sense, that probably meant he was willing to bet olive branches as well...

"I think I'm starting to get it now," Nick said. "You gave that ruby to the waitress as a peace offering, just like way back then!"

Timore's flames glowed bright with approval. "You're absolutely right, Nicholas. Since then, it has become customary for demons to show their good will towards mewmans by giving a small diamond or such whenever they may have accidentally frightened them. It's our unique way of saying 'Hey, we're not _that_ bad!' Why, I'm sure that waitress has already reevaluated her stance on demons!"

As Timore and Nick continued their optimistic discussion, Marco couldn't help but feel that the true moral of the tale wasn't nearly as rosy as what they were describing. That story didn't feel like a tale about two seperate groups learning to understand and accept one another, not in the slightest. Instead, it was an anecdote about one group of people being _paid_ to tolerate another.

Marco looked around Goblin's Claw, and noticed the several judgemental stares of many mewmans passing by. They were all looking at Timore with disdain. Her squire uniform made her look official enough, but that didn't mean she was accepted here, let alone welcomed. By Timore's logic, would she need to pay every single person here to get on their good side? Really?

Her story at least made Marco realize that the world really did revolve around money, and in turn, made it the solution to most of its problems. Sure, Star had magic, but even that had limitations. It couldn't fix _everything_. She and her mom had to kiss up to the other kingdoms as well, to be on good enough terms with them to get some assistance in repairing their broken home.

It was probably why Etheria was so insistent on Star being Tom's girlfriend. If their relationship eventually evolved into something more, then that would mean more support and resources for the Butterfly Kingdom in the long run. In a way, it wasn't a wrong way of thinking, much as it pained Marco to give the old hag _any_ credit.

So… screw it. If one little robbery was all it took to help save the people in Rat's End, if it was the surest way to raise the most money, at the expense of a single coward, who was living off the stolen valor of others, if it was the only shitty thing Marco had to take to his grave-

"Marco?" Nick said, ripping the human out of his thoughts.

"Oh. Er… what is it?" Marco asked, feeling slightly bad for ignoring them.

"Nicholas and I were just bonding over the various hurtful names we have been called over the years, and how overcoming them have made us stronger people. You obviously wouldn't have to have been a demon to have gone through _that_."

Ain't that the truth. "Yeah, Higgs still calls me 'prince' all the time. Although, to be honest, I think recently that became less of an insult and just what she likes to refer to me as." Didn't make it entirely not annoying, though.

Timore and Nick looked at each other, then, Nick was the first to say: "Marco, you've been hanging out with Higgs? I thought she hated your guts, and… that you returned the sentiment."

"Um… she picks up her clothes at the Wash once a week. We sometimes chat then, but it's nothing substantial," Marco lied, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

He should've been more careful there. It would've been better to pretend he hadn't seen her since the Blowout. Or maybe he ought to have admitted to seeing her that night in the Rat's End, but without giving specifics? After all, plenty of people had seen him there. Oh, crud! Well, too late to backtrack now…

"Oh, okay. Makes sense. Glad she isn't giving you any more trouble." Nick left it at that, causing Marco to cool down somewhat from his incipient internal panic.

Timore, for her part, seemed like she just remembered something. "Speaking of nicknames, you both know Claus, right?"

The name didn't seem familiar. Marco was in the Wash all the time, but even then, was that a knight's name or a squire's name? Nick looked equally stumped.

The demon giggled. "I'm surprised, Nicholas. You just mentioned him a few minutes ago. Back at The Hungry Brute?"

"I did? When?" Nick asked, bewildered.

"That's _Baby Man's_ real name. His name is _Claus_. It's such a nice name, isn't it?"

Nick was surprised by that. "Huh, first time I heard it, I think. I always assumed his parents were just bad at coming up with names," He paused, thinking for a moment. "How do you even know this?"

"Sir Thorncloak and Lady Whosits are both part of the castle's elite guard. The two of us sometimes patrol the same area..."

"My condolences," Marco said, with a smirk. He couldn't imagine working with that guy, especially after the Quest Buy drama.

Timore lifted a shy finger in protest. "Actually… um, Claus isn't really that bad of a person. In fact, he's sort of this gentle giant once you get to know him. He told me how he never really had a problem with demons, since he had never met one until that day. It was Old Guy who had goaded him into harassing me. He apologized for it, though."

"Old Guy?" Marco said, curiously. Somehow, Marco felt it was worse for the elder squire if he had been the sole instigator, rather than one of a pair of misguided bullies. Although he couldn't quite put his finger into why.

"Yes. In fact, it was Old Guy who gave Claus that awful nickname in the first place, despite the fact that he's so embarrassed by it! He never protested it because he didn't have any friends at the time and wanted to be accepted. Can you believe such an awful situation to be in?"

"Old Guy is pretty awful," Nick admitted. "It's no wonder he's been a squire for who knows how long. He just can't grow out of his immaturity."

So if 'Baby Man' was just a nickname, what did that make 'Old Guy'?

Marco looked up at the sky. It was well past noon now. "Hey, guys, it was really fun hanging with you again, but I need to head back home."

Tonight was the big night, after all. He still needed a few hours to get ready.

"Already?" Nick said, not trying very hard to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"You did mention how you had plans after lunch, Marco, so I hope the extra time you spent with us doesn't cause you any trouble…" Timore said in her usual apologetic tone.

"Nah, you're good. Thanks for the lunch, Nick. See you around the castle, Timore."

And with that, the squire took out his dimensional scissors, cut a portal to his room, waved goodbye to his friends, and stepped through the vortex.

Well, lackluster pie or not, this morning had certainly given him food for thought. Marco had had half a mind during lunch to ask his friends for their opinion on the robbery, but he knew Higgs wouldn't approve. The less people involved, the better, which was probably why they hadn't brought Bab.. er, _Claus_ in on it. Still, talking to Nick and Timore had helped.

Or, well... had it?

On the one hand, Marco really ought to reevaluate the company he was keeping. Nick had been shocked to learn he was hanging out with Higgs, and it's not like Marco could blame him. Plus, the stuff he just heard didn't make it any easier to trust Old Guy's word.

And yet, well, wasn't the moral of Timore's story about the Lucitor Queen that sometimes money did solve people's problems? Wasn't seeing the Goblin Claw, racist waitresses and all, downright inspirational for what Marco could do for the Rat's End? Could he really turn his back on them just because Higgs was sometimes confrontational and Old Guy had been a shitty friend to Claus?

* * *

It was a moonless night, dark and quiet, in which two dark and quiet figures waited by an unremarkable cliff, halfway up the Hill of Flags. The hill - in truth a mountain in which the traditional game of mewman nobility was played - laid at the midpoint between Butterfly Castle and the Forest of Certain Death. The eastern face afforded a look back into civilization, and a perfect vantage point from which to surveil the old castle west of the main town: Count Mildrew's castle, to be exact.

The standing figures wore dark gray woolen cloaks. They shrouded their faces under the garments' secretive cowls, blending seamlessly into the starlit darkness. Soon, a third figure joined them, a concealing hood also drawn over his head. This later hood, however, was dyed a bright crimson red.

"Corn damn it, _prince!_ You stand out from a mile away in that thing!" complained the tallest of the two original figures.

"Hey, it's not my fault, ok? This is literally the only kind of hoodie I got!" protested Marco as he approached the other squires. His goblin dog shirt beneath it was just as conspicuous anyways and, besides, it was chilly out here!

"You work as a _laundry_ squire!" Higgs retorted. "Couldn't you have, um, 'borrowed' something else?"

Marco reeled, aghast at the notion! He could only imagine what Sir Lavabo would reply, to such an ignoble accusation...

"Those clothes belong to whoever left them in the care of the Wash, Higgs," he explained. "How would you feel if I had taken yours? Besides, how would I explain if they got damaged? It would only raise more questions!"

"Like it won't raise questions when they see the crimson dunce running around Mildrew's castle!" she insisted. "Everyone who meets you knows you own that stupid thing!"

"Ahem" coughed the shorter of the figures. "It really shouldn't matter, Higgs. If anyone sees us, we're all screwed anyways. The plan is to portal directly to the sixth floor balcony, then sneak around inside the castle. It's not like we are trying to sneak past the gates. There should simply not be anybody up and about on the upper floors at this hour. If all goes well, no one will know anyone was there at all, and it won't matter what we're wearing."

Marco knew he ought to feel grateful to Old Guy for the save, but he was still not sure how he felt about the older squire.

Higgs just sighed, conceding the argument. "Did you at least bring the scissors?"

Marco nodded, extending out a hand showing the purple-handled dimensional blades.

"Alright, let's do this," Higgs announced, determined.

She took a step towards Marco, which only made the boy notice how stiff her movements seemed under the robes. Also, her right arm never really left the insides of the cloak. It was as if she were holding something under there, something she had to carefully maneuver out of the way as she walked...

Had she brought a weapon!?

Well, duh, of _course_ she had! Something quite bigger than a dagger too, from the looks of it. It wasn't anything large or heavy enough to really hamper her movement, but it was certainly enough to cause a visible shift in her walk. It made sense. If they got caught, they might need to defend themselves.

Marco hadn't thought of that earlier, and now that he did, he sort of wished he still hadn't. Somehow, the idea of the other two being willing to get into a deadly fight, all while breaking and entering, served to bring home to Marco just what kind of 'quest' he was about to join.

"Guys, I am sorry." Marco raised a hand. "But I actually have a few questions, before we go."

"Really? _Now!?_ " protested the redhead.

"When else, Higgs!? I haven't seen you two since that night at the Rat's End!" Marco argued back. It had been yet another measure not to arouse suspicion. "Look, I just need to get a few things clear. I am taking a lot on faith here, and it's not like I could go digging around for answers from anyone else…"

"You better not have, _prince,_ " she interjected in a threatening and somewhat disbelieving tone.

"Now, now, Higgs," Old Guy offered, conciliatory. "Let him ask his questions. Without his scissors, this entire operation wouldn't be possible, so I believe we owe him as much. But, um, Marco, we really don't have much time. Not if we are doing this tonight. Count Mildrew's castle does have nightly patrols, and we want to be out before the next one even comes near the upper floors."

Did he say nightly patrols, or _knightly_ patrols? Somehow, that thought reminded Marco of Timore and, um, Claus, which only made him all the more determined to ask his questions!

"So, just to be clear, this story about the dragon…" Marco began to ask. "Well, um, how come I never heard about it before?"

Higgs raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you are an expert on mewman history now?"

"Well, no, not really, but…" Marco knew he had questions. It was just that he wasn't quite sure _which_ questions. "I mean, it was a big deal, right? I have certainly heard people discussing the Ludo invasion since I came back. So, why not a dragon attack?"

"Marco, it all happened fifteen years ago," Old Guy reminded him. "Do you have any idea how many monster attacks there have been since then? People barely mention Queen Comet's death nowadays, and that was a _much_ bigger deal. The dragon attack actually happened closer to that battle than to today. Take it from me, nobody will give a crap about who fought Ludo's invasion even three years from now."

In fact, already close to nobody even remembered that Marco had been part of that group, actually…

Ok, alright, but Marco still wanted to check one more thing...

"Higgs, you grew up knowing about this, right?" he asked. "This isn't something Old Guy just told you, correct?"

The older squire gave him an inescrutable look. Marco just hoped that he hadn't offended the man too badly, particularly if he was actually being honest. Still, he'd take being rude over not checking something like this, any day.

"Yes, Marco, of course I have!" Higgs replied, annoyed. "Anyone who actually grew up in Mewni knows about it, just as anyone who grew up in Mewni knows that there is no way that the official story is real! Count Mildrew is a pompous fool who barely leaves his castle nowadays! No one buys that he actually fought a dragon."

Marco nodded. Ok, that was good enough for him, actually. He didn't exactly like Higgs, but, frankly, he trusted her honor way more than he did Old Guy's. Her explanation didn't quite mean that Old Guy's version of the battle was accurate but, on the whole, the fact that there had definitely been a dragon attack, made the story a bit more likely. And, well, Higgs wasn't a reliable source for _that_ , but if the count really did have a reputation as a cowardly recluse, then that was further confirmation of Old Guy's tale.

"You know what else anyone who's actually grown up in Mewni knows?" Higgs added, impatient. "That if we don't do something about it, there will be a lot of people suffering come winter. And _that_ will be on your cowardice, _prince_."

The human squire sighed. Yeah, that was the thing too. Even if the story wasn't true, even if it turned out that Count Mildrew didn't actually deserve this, Marco knew for a fact that the people of Rat's End _needed_ that treasure. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, or so he heard somewhere.

"Is that it?" Higgs pressed on. "Are you only stalling because you're afraid?"

"No, but…" Marco struggled for a moment to explain his hesitation to her in any way that wouldn't be just rehashing their discussion from the other night.

Maybe she was right? Maybe he just got scared when he realized she was ready for the _possibility_ of fight? A fine brave squire that would make him! But, well, he really didn't think that was it, though. He wasn't afraid of a fight. He was afraid he was making a huge mistake, somehow.

As he trailed off, lost in thought, Higgs took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her tone had become a smidge more friendly, and a lot less like her usual style of talking to him. "Marco, look, if you get caught, what do you think will happen? You'll just be sent back to Earth, I wager, to live the rest of your life in safety and comfort, from the sound of it. What do you think will happen to us? Hell, forget the rest of it, what do you think Sir Stabby will do if he finds out I, um, 'borrowed' this?"

She gave him a smile, and out of her cloak she produced a sword. No, not a sword, _the_ sword. Sir Stabby's _vorpal_ sword. That was the weapon she had brought!

"Marco, honestly, I am worried too. I am worried about being caught. I am worried about being thrown in a dungeon, or being executed, or, worse, never becoming a knight…"

Old Guy made a face like that was truly the worst fate he could imagine as well.

Marco wasn't one hundred percent sure he understood mewman priorities, to be honest. Then again, would Higgs being kicked out from being a squire mean that she would just become one more of the downtrodden inhabitants of the Rat's End? He found _that_ hard to picture, but...

"What I am _not_ worried about, though, is about this being the wrong thing to do," she finished, perhaps reading Marco's true concern from his expression. "It's not. The people back home need the money, and they need it now."

Higgs' moral compass wasn't exactly Marco's own, but, in this instance, he really didn't think that he could disagree. Alright, he had debated his choice long enough, no turning back now. Point of no return in 3… 2… 1…

"So, _that_ balcony?" Marco pointed out with his finger.

Higgs nodded, and then put her hand on his shoulder for a moment. "Ready, prince?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Marco admitted, surprising even himself.

"Then I guess you aren't half the asshole I thought you were," she conceded, patting him on the back.

Marco wasn't sure that really counted as a compliment.

* * *

The blue vortex of the portal opened in the middle of the sixth floor balcony. Unlike those of the two floors above, this particular terrace extended out from the castle's dining hall, not anyone's bedroom, which made if far less likely that their entrance would be spotted.

Old Guy drew a finger to his lips and moved towards the glass windows ahead, creeping slowly. Marco followed him, as did Higgs.

The elder squire stopped abruptly, raising his right hand in mid air and pressing it against nothing at all. He lifted his left then, and did the same thing. He then began moving both hands around the empty air, as if examining an invisible wall. It was almost as if he had suddenly decided to become a mime or something.

Marco tried to turn around to look at what he was doing from the other side. Halfway through the attempt, however, his head hit something unseen that felt very much like solid rock. " _Ow!_ "

Old Guy shushed him angrily. A moment later, however, at an angle Higgs wouldn't have been able to see, he flashed the human a short-lived but quite nasty grin. Or at least, Marco _thought_ he did.

So, there actually _was_ an invisible wall there. Ugh, Marco ought to have seen that coming. Did the force field go all the way around? Could they just circumvent it somehow? Maybe they could use the scissors to...

 _'_ _Snick!'_

There was a sound like the rushing wind as the vorpal sword swung through the ostensibly empty air right beside Marco. A second later, Old Guy's hands fell forward from their previous position, and the squire resumed walking, calmly moving past Marco's left. Higgs did the same on his right.

It took the human squire an instant to realize that Higgs had just cut down the magical barrier that acted as part of the castle's security system. Right. 'Fun fact about vorpal swords, prince, they are pretty handy against magic,' is what Higgs had told him before. Well, no kidding!

Still, he had sort of expected something more remarkable to happen as the barrier fell down. Maybe a roll of thunder? A flash of lightning? But no, it had just been there a moment ago, then gone an instant later. Which was probably all well and good considering they were trying to sneak in, but Marco couldn't help but feel it was also a bit anticlimactic.

 _'_ _Snack!'_

While Marco was still thinking about their initial obstacle, Higgs had walked ahead and thrust the point of her blade through the keyhole of the balcony door, busting the lock. She then pushed the door open and began motioning, impatiently, for him to follow.

Marco did.

They crawled around the castle corridors for quite some time. The long hallways all seemed deserted at this time of the night. Marco felt the impulse to whistle the Mission Impossible tune, more out of sheer nervousness than anything else.

He didn't actually do that, of course! He wasn't an idiot. But it really did feel like they had somehow been transported into the middle of a heist movie. In truth, thinking of it like a movie was a lot of easier than facing the reality that he actually was in the process of committing a crime, even if it was for a good reason.

That said, Higgs had been right. While the people of the Rat's End froze to death on the street or, at best, spent their days inside crumbling wooden boxes, this asshole was living like a king!

Literally so, perhaps.

Having seen quite a lot of Butterfly Castle - particularly a few days ago when delivering its inhabitants' clean laundry - he couldn't help but make the comparison. Count Mildrew's castle wasn't nearly as big as Queen Moon's, of course, but it was just as luxuriously decorated, if not more so. The man could afford anything, it seemed, except a sense of subtlety.

Every single corridor was covered in purple velvet carpeting. The ceiling and wall-mounted chandeliers were pure silver, as were the numerous mirrors along the walls. The doors were solid mewnian oak, intricately carved into an exquisite pattern of vines and roses. The same style could be seen in the few desks and stands they found along their way, usually with a marble bust or porcelain vase atop them as decoration. It was the first time Marco had even seen porcelain in Mewni, now that he thought about it.

But, by far the gaudiest of all the decorations were the portraits! There seemed to be one in every corner and two in every room, and they all depicted the exact same person.

"Count Mildrew, I presume," whispered Marco finally, while passing yet another life-sized picture of a brooding tall man with long blonde flowing locks and a jawline square as a cutting board. "Man, this guy likes himself almost as much as Sir Dashing..."

Higgs chuckled quietly first, then shushed him second.

She seemed nervous too. Somehow, this surprised Marco. Despite her earlier confession, he hadn't fully considered the possibility that Higgs might actually be just as in over her head on this as he himself was. He wasn't sure if that made him more or less nervous in turn.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure why they were still creeping around further inside this place. Maybe the portraits would be hard to sell, but he was sure they could have made a fortune just out of melting the silverware in that first room they entered, not to mention all the solid gold frames.

But Old Guy was taking the lead, and he kept dragging them further and further into the castle. He seemed to be looking for something in particular, and Higgs was content to follow him. It made sense. After all, if he had served under Mildrew, he probably knew the layout of his home. Didn't he?

"Almost there, almost there…" muttered Old Guy, stroking his long mustache under the cloak.

He was likely just trying to reassure the other two. Although, for a moment, Marco could have sworn that it sounded more like he was talking to himself.

They doubled along a corridor, and found themselves going down a spiral staircase. There was a door at the bottom. It was locked, but that didn't deter Higgs, or her vorpal sword.

Behind it, there was a long straight narrow corridor with walls of rough stone, unadorned by frames or purple tapestries. There were no portraits in there, and no chandeliers. No windows either.

Out of his robes, Old Guy produced two candles and a match. Higgs and him both wrapped a small cloth around their left hand, lit a candle each, and held it up, using the cloth to protect their skin from the hot dripping wax.

Old Guy marched ahead, with Marco following, and Higgs in the rear, closing the door behind the three of them. As long as nobody inspected the busted lock too carefully, they wouldn't know anything was amiss.

"No patrols in here," Old Guy announced. "But don't get too chatty, we want to hear if we are being followed. The Count himself may be a bumbling idiot, but let's not assume the same for his hired muscle."

The tunnel was dark and had no side openings or branching pathways. Their only light came from the two feeble candle sticks Higgs and the elder squire carried. They had only gone down one or two floors from the sixth story balcony, so this whole thing had to be well above ground. Still, it felt more like a crypt than a part of the opulent castle they had been walking through, moments earlier.

Honestly, if this had been one of Janna's D&D sessions, the squire would have been poking at the stone panels in the floor with a ten foot pole. He was almost surprised when they actually reached the end without finding a single hidden trap. Maybe that was more a sign of his overactive imagination than anything else, though.

Eventually, however, the corridor widened. It opened into a small foyer, at the end of which was a second locked door. No, not a door, but rather a proper castle gate! Twice as tall as they were, solid oak, iron beams reinforcing it, and a goddamn portcullis in front!

Higgs took one long look at it and sighed.

 _'_ _Snickety-Snack!'_

The vorpal sword cut through it like paper, and nearly without a sound.

Of course, the crash that followed, with the heavy door and metal bits tumbling along the stone floor, was far less quiet. Marco could only hope that the walls around this place had been made thick enough to deafen even such ruckus. So much for the idea of nobody even realizing someone had been here tonight, though!

Then again, it was not like there had been any obvious way to unlock that contraption. So, in a way, it had been the only option. As long as they could finish the job before anyone saw them, it would be fine. It would be obvious that someone had been here, sure, but as long as there was no way of knowing _who_ , it wouldn't really matter. Right?

Marco looked around at Higgs for reassurance, and realized she was glancing back at the two of them, just as nervously. Her deep, anxious breaths, clued him to the fact that she also didn't want to be here any longer than they had to.

He was about to ask her if she was alright, when all three squires found themselves speechless as they caught sight of the inside of the treasure vault.

For it was a vault that laid behind the indoor castle gate: a huge hall of stone, larger than what the light of their puny candles allowed Marco to see, all filled with riches. There was a narrow walkable path, leading away from the entrance and the now fallen door, but every other part of the floor's surface was covered with treasure. The place was littered with gold coins and gemstones, which in many places formed mounds as tall as Marco's knees. Besides the gold and gems, there were also random pieces of jewelry, full-body marble statues, fancy looking shields and swords, as well as a variety of fine tapestries lying atop the piles.

It took Marco a few moments to realize what he was looking at. It truly was a _dragon's_ hoard!

Other than the self-indulgent paintings, all of the fancy decorations outside had probably been picked from among the _least_ valuable of the pieces in this room. Which begged the question of what did this Count Mildrew guy do with all of the stuff that he kept inside here? Swim on it like freakin Scrooge McDuck!?

"Yes! Finally!" cried Old Guy. He seemed to catch himself. "Er… I mean, here we are, Higgs. What do you think?"

"I… I…" the redhead was speechless. Her usual cool completely shattered at the sight of such shocking wealth.

This was a fortune by Marco's standards, maybe even by Star's. He could only imagine how the girl, having grown up in the Rat's End, must have felt seeing it. Did the sight come as a relief? Or as further proof of the world's terrible unfairness?

"I think," Marco interjected. "That there is probably enough stuff here to rebuild the entire kingdom!"

"Oh, that too…" muttered Old Guy, "…that too."

He seemed to be looking for something, walking through the path to the end of the room while glancing at both sides. Unsatisfied with what he found, the mewman began pushing around the treasure with his feet where it was clumped the highest, like he was sweeping around dirt, looking for the real valuables hidden beneath.

"Um, what are you doing?" Marco asked.

The old man glanced back at him, looking entirely out of it. A flash of exasperation came and went from his face. Finally, he grinned at Marco, albeit in a somewhat forced way.

"There was a gem, I heard, in the dragon's hoard, fifteen years ago," he explained. "Supposedly it is a curse breaking stone. A 'severing stone' or some such. _Really_ valuable. We obviously can't take all this gold with us. But if we could take only the stone, then I am sure we could sell it for enough to like, save the Rat's End or whatever… and still be able to keep a hefty tip for our good deed..."

The glint in the squire eyes told Marco all he needed to know about which of the two Old Guy saw as the priority. He really needed to keep an eye out for the man's wrinkled grabby hands. That said, well, it wasn't like his logic was without merit.

"Ok, let's take a look, then," the human agreed, and began helping the other squire rummage through the piles of treasure.

The three squires searched the hoard by candlelight for what felt like hours. As time went on, their source of illumination and their determination to find the damn thing began slowly melting away. Everyone's except Old Guy, who remained steadfast that they must find the severing stone.

Higgs patience ran out the fastest.

"Ugh, we've spent forever rummaging around all these riches just for a damn stone!" she complained. Marco felt she sounded a bit like her own knight. He wasn't sure why, exactly. Maybe it was just the short-fused impatience that reminded him of Sir Stabby. "We've searched everywhere. If that severing stone even exists, it doesn't seem to be in this room. We can't afford to delay any longer," she declared. "Marco, just open a portal back to the cliff, we are pushing a cartload of treasure through and then figuring out how to hide it and sell it later."

"No!" yelled Old Guy, before Marco could respond, surprising the other two. "No. No. No! It _has_ to be here!"

"Come on dude, it isn't. Maybe it got lost? Maybe this guy already sold it?" Marco asked. "Who cares? I know it's valuable but…"

"You, kid, know nothing…" Old Guy grumbled, coldly, dangerously. Then, in a slightly calmer tone, he continued, "there were _magical_ treasures in the dragon's hoard! This stuff? It's all junk! Pretty baubles and fancy trinkets, but nothing more. The stone is more valuable than all this crap put together!"

"It looks valuable enough to me," Higgs pointed out, annoyed. "Even with just what we can carry, we should be able to make a big difference back home…"

"You don't understand! I need…" Old Guy paused for a second. "I _deserve_ the stone! I was there, remember? A squire fighting back when Mildrew cowered before the dragon? This belongs to me! The stone belongs to me!"

"Look, I get it. Mildrew is a piece of work, I am sure. They all are. But this isn't about fifteen years ago," Higgs reminded him. "This is about the Rat's End."

"Who gives a fuck about the goddamn Rat's End!?" Old Guy yelled in response.

 _Slap!_

Marco always forgot how fast Higgs was, and just how strong. Right as Old Guy finished his sentence, she slapped him with the back of her cloth-wrapped hand, throwing the elderly man across the room and into a hard bed of gold coins. By the look in her eyes, he was lucky she had used the hand _without_ the vorpal sword, even if that meant that a few drops of hot wax from the candle had splashed out into his mustache. A final drop of wax slid down across Higgs' own cheek.

" _'_ _Who gives a fuck about the Rat's End?'_ " she echoed, in cold fury. "Who do you _think?_ "

"You… I…" Old Guy stumbled over his words as he stood back up, one hand holding the side of his jaw. The flame of his own candle had gone out as he fell, the remains of the mostly consumed wax cylinder falling besides him. "I am really sorry, Higgs. I... really don't know what came over me…"

"Greed," she replied, disdainfully. " _Prince,_ open the portal. We are leaving now, with whatever we can take."

Marco sighed. How did being angry at Old Guy translate into calling _him_ names again instead?

Well, never mind that. They had wasted enough time. Marco took out his dimensional scissors, lifted them up and made a motion as if he were cutting an invisible sheet of paper in the empty air in front of him.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

And again.

And a fourth time over.

"Um, Marco?" Higgs asked, nervous.

"It isn't working," he said. "The scissors aren't working!"

The three of them stood there in silence for a moment.

For better or worse, a moment was all it took for them to hear the sound of heavy footsteps on the stone. They sounded distant, still quite far away from the fallen gate of the vault room. But they were growing closer and closer. There was every chance that they came from the windowless corridor beyond said gate, marching towards the three of them right through the only exit from the secure treasure chamber.

Fuck!

None of them had expected to dally in there long enough for anyone to notice the damage to the first door's lock, and they had counted on the dimensional portals to leave without being seen if someone actually did. But now both those plans had failed them.

Marco tried the scissors again. He started frantically waving them in the air, to no effect. They were _so_ screwed! Any minute now, the person those footsteps belonged to would make it to the broken gate. They would find all three of them in here: thieves, _incompetent_ thieves.

Would Marco be kicked out of Mewni for this? Be brought for trial before Queen Moon? Before Star? How would he explain himself to them? What about Sir Lavabo? About his duty to the Wash? What would his mentor think of his promising young squire then? Would he still be proud of him? Would he feel betrayed?

Then Marco realized that Mewni might well have a tradition of executing burglars, rather than capturing them. They had the vorpal blade, so they could fight for their lives if needed be, but… would that really be any better? If they were seen and escaped, they would be branded criminals either way. And if they killed the guards to escape unrecognized, well… Marco was ready to be a thief, but not a _murderer_. Could you even argue self defense after you had just broken into another person's home?

Marco began to hyperventilate. This was too much. It felt like his life was over, and he never even managed to patch things up with Star, or even got a chance to apologize to Jackie, for that matter! He had no idea what to do!

Higgs, fortunately, did.

"You two, grab anything you can pocket, quickly," she whispered, as she did the same. "Follow me."

She ran directly at the wall of the chamber, slashing at it with the vorpal sword, hacking it apart as if it were made of cardboard… three feet thick 'cardboard'. Even with the magical blade, it took her many attempts before she was able to make the gash big enough for the three of them to sneak through.

It wasn't a quiet process either.

The footsteps behind them broke into a run.

The three squires ran too. They ran along hallways of purple velvet carpeting, and along rows of portraits of a regal looking Count Mildrew looking down on them with - and this was probably just Marco's imagination - an expression of reproachful disdain. The golden coins lining the red hoodie's pockets clattered and fell through the sides as they raced away.

Marco tried the scissors again. Still no luck.

Eventually, they found a window. Out of nowhere, Higgs pulled a long rope. Ok, not out of _nowhere_. Obviously she had brought it inside that cloak of hers, maybe tied around her waist or something. So, unlike him, she did have a plan B for their escape. A prepared squire is a… you know what? Not the time!

"Prince, hold this!" she yelled, handing him the vorpal sword.

Marco picked it up, without even thinking, and set himself in a defensive stance, looking back towards the hallway they had come from. The steps sounded real close now.

With her hands newly free, Higgs was quickly tying the rope to the door closest to the windowsill. As soon as she managed to secure one end, she threw the other through the opening. Old Guy went down the rope first, just as soon as Higgs was done setting it up. She followed him.

Just as Marco turned to do the same, a loud angry voice shouted behind him. "Stop! Stop or you die!"

Marco turned around and saw… the man in the portraits.

Blonde, square jawed, tall, and just slightly less fit than the pictures made him look, Count Mildrew stared at him in disbelief. He was holding a poker iron, like one would use to feed a fireplace, and wearing purple silk pajamas. There were bags under his eyes and he had the disheveled look of someone who had been abruptly woken up.

By reflex, Marco lifted the magical sword to defend himself.

"You trespass into my property, steal from me, damage my home, and then raise your blade towards me…" the count listed, surprised. "Why, Marco Diaz?"

* * *

 **Author's** **Notes:** And there you have it! What will become of Marco after being spotted like this? Were Higgs and Old Guy able to fully escape? What is the fate of Rat's End and it's people?

Find out... in about a month:P

(Thanks for all the continued support and comments, btw. Love ya guys!)


	15. Chapter 15: Count your Blessings

Marco remembered a particular day from last year.

It started off as a pretty normal day, all things considered. Marco woke up, had breakfast, managed to make it to the bus on time, nodded to Jackie, and sat down for his first period class. Ms. Skullnick was continuing the previous day's algebra lesson, and Star, who had once again stayed up late the night before, had her head down on the desk, somehow stopping herself short of an actual snore.

Then the intercom went off.

"Lars Vanderdud, please report to the principal's office immediately."

What followed were the usual snickers and 'oooohhhh's from the other classmates that resonated whenever an announcement like this was made.

It wasn't anything new. Lars was, to put it kindly, a typical high school bully, and a future felon when you didn't put it so kindly. The type of misguided kid that couldn't care less about his academics or future, and would rather harass the smart and popular kids than try to improve himself. Sure, occasionally a demonic appendage would come out of nowhere to give Lars his much deserved dose of karma, but instances like that only solidified his belief that violence was the answer to all of the world's problems.

Lars would typically respond to this kind of announcement and the students' sneers with a confident smile and an air of indifference. He wanted to come off as someone who didn't care what people thought of him, despite the fact that he had most likely become a bully because he cared _too much_ about what people thought.

However, this time, Lars didn't wear that self-assured expression. In fact, he looked worried, almost panicking. Sweat was visible on his face and he left the classroom without so much as a single snide comment.

Later that day, Marco found out why Lars had seemed so distressed.

Principal Skeeves had been given an anonymous tip that several students had brought drugs to school, and lo and behold, Lars was one of the mentioned students. Various rumors throughout Echo Creek Academy would soon attempt to determine how much and what type of drugs Lars had hidden in his locker, but no matter the specifics, it was apparently enough to get him expelled, and escorted away from the premises by the police.

Marco recalled seeing Lars leaving the building with two officers. It was right after first period had ended. The faculty tried their best to keep the students away from the scene and tell them to move along, but everyone's curiosity got the better of them.

While Star was busy asking who Lars had killed to deserve being arrested, Marco kept looking at the handcuffed teen, all the way up to him being placed inside the police car. Marco saw the panicked look on Lars' face, as well as the tear streaks running down his face.

He couldn't describe it then, but Marco had a weird feeling brew inside him as he watched Lars go from a cocky delinquent to a defeated mess of bad choices.

It was catharsis.

While Marco had always doubted himself, it was moments like these that validated his choices. It was seeing those who would choose to ignore rules and hurt others pay for what they've done that made the boy more confident in himself.

Did he have a similar feeling when Star blasted Toffee into pieces? Probably, at least in part. Sure, there had been some relief at being safe from the Lizard monster, and the darker taste of payback after what he had seen Toffee do to Star minutes earlier. But there was also this righteous self-assured feeling to it: a combination of witnessing justice first-hand, and reminding himself that no matter how bad things got, he'd never sink to the bad guys' level.

How could he ever picture himself in a similar position to Lars, let alone Toffee? Marco was a good kid. He never took advantage of others, always tried to be a great son and friend, and most _certainly_ had no interest in breaking any laws. Hell, he wouldn't even know where to find drugs... not that he wanted to know!

Sure, maybe Marco's morals ended up typecasting him as the 'safe kid' but, in his mind, 'safe kid' was much more flattering than 'criminal' or 'deviant.'

Which is exactly what Marco felt like right now. An offender, a malefactor, and the exact opposite of 'safe.'

"You trespass into my property, steal from me, damage my home, and then raise your blade towards me…" the man before him listed, bewildered and confused. "Why, Marco Diaz?"

This was the same person from the portraits. Count Mildrew. Same flowing blond mane, same chiseled jaw, and yet, so unlike the haughty composed man in the pictures. His face was twisted in shock, his hair disheveled, his unmistakable gray-blue eyes now bloodshot and unfocused, and he seemed to almost stumble forward in his pajamas as he brandished the poker iron.

It was understandable. He had, after all, just been suddenly woken up by a group of burglars.

A group of burglars that included 'safe kid' Marco Diaz!

Marco had been caught red handed. It was over. He'd probably be put on trial, then kicked out of Mewni, or, worse, kicked _into_ jail. Star would be so pissed at him. He could imagine her yelling at him to go away, to stop making things so hard for her, even as she argued with her mother that, no, her former best friend from Earth _shouldn't_ be executed for his crime. And Lavabo? He wouldn't even yell. That was the worst part, he would just…

Suddenly, the young squire's brain caught up to the last thing the count had said, interrupting the parade of imagined punishments and self-recrimination.

"How do you know my name?" Marco asked aloud, before he even thought of denying it.

"Red hoodie, brown hair, 'the prince of the princess'... _hic_ … deepest desire'?" Mildrew pointed out, quoting Ruberiot's stupid song, stumbling forwards, brandishing the pointed iron bar left and right. "Who else's going to be? Mina Loveberry!? Drop the blade, kid, before I… _hic_ … drop your arm along with it!"

It was then that Marco realized that the man before him wasn't simply recently woken up and startled. He was, seemingly, drunk as a skunk! Whether that was instead of or in addition to being jolted awake was hard to tell. He swept at the squire erratically with the poker iron, without getting close enough to actually hit him with it. He slurred as he spoke. His eyes darted from the human boy to the walls and ceiling.

Maybe, just maybe, Marco could still get out of this.

He thought things were all over once he had been recognized. Thanks once again, Ruberiot, for that damn Princess Song! But... maybe it didn't matter that he was recognized, if the only person who spotted him was - hopefully - blackout drunk.

If he could get away now, somehow, then there was a chance that Count Mildrew wouldn't remember any of this, come morning. At least, that's how the boy hoped that stuff worked. Echo Creek's 'safe kid', despite his recent and quite sudden descent into criminality, was hardly an expert in the effects of heavy drinking. Still, it was somewhat common TV wisdom that people who drank a lot one night didn't remember half of it the next morning. Under present circumstances, Marco was willing to pin his hopes on being part of the forgotten half.

"I'm sorry," the squire said, and it was true. He knew he had messed up, and he _was_ sorry. It's just, at this point, it was too late to go back. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that," he clarified, refusing to lower his weapon.

In all honesty, there were better ways to help the people of the Rat's End than this. He ought to have swallowed his pride and begged Star for help, or Pony Head, or, well, Tom. After all, Timore had pointed out to him just how wealthy Tom's family was that same morning! And why rely solely on his friends? Marco himself could probably start a fundraiser with the many princesses of Saint O's who considered him - or, _er,_ her? - a bona fide hero!

But he was here instead, having broken into this man's home, stolen from him, pointing a sword at his chest. Maybe that made him a bad guy, maybe it meant he deserved some eventual karmic comeuppance. But, given that he had followed that dumb path this far, he might as well just see his choice through, and at least bring the few coins and gems he had hidden in his hoodie back to the people of the Rat's End.

He turned around, ready to grab hold of the rope Higgs had set up and use it to rappel down after her and Old Guy. Maybe, if he was lucky, the count would truly forget he saw him. And if he wasn't, then so be it, Marco would pay for his actions then, after the good within his bad deed had been done as well.

He turned around, ready to leave.

Before he could figure out what had happened, Marco saw something fly through the air, and the rope fall out of the window, untethered.

Somehow, the poker iron had lodged itself right into the thin line of the rope, cutting it in two. And somehow, the stumbling drunken man behind him had hit an inch-wide bullseye with a fireplace implement at a twenty feet range.

"I _said,_ drop the sword!" Marco heard Mildrew shout. There was a sharp edge to that slurred voice.

The squire turned around to see the count leaping forward to grab back the poker iron, with the grace of a stumbling mule, but the speed and raw power of a goddamn Elmbeast!

"I'll ask… _hic_ … again," Mildrew remarked as he retrieved his weapon and placed himself between Marco and the window. "Why?"

'Because the people of the Rat's End need it!' was the obvious first answer. But, even as he thought of it, Marco realized that answer was wrong.

Because he wanted to go on an adventure? Because he wanted to play Robin Hood? Because he cared too much about Higgs' opinion of him? Maybe he really wasn't different from Lars, secretly eager to live up to people's expectations. The wrong people. The wrong expectations.

"I… I am sorry," he muttered.

It was, as the song goes, 'too little, too late'.

Count Mildrew lunged his poker iron at the squire, and Marco, armed with Sir Stabby's vorpal sword, was forced to defend himself.

Marco wasn't a swordsman by any stretch of the imagination. Sir Lavabo had taught him the basics, but that had been with a mop, even if it _was_ steel-reinforced. This was different. The vorpal sword could cut through stone, and the man in front of him moved both fast and erratically. The last thing Marco wanted was to add murder to his list of crimes, even if by mistake.

Turned out he needn't worry.

Initially, the boy tried to hit only the poker iron that his opponent was swinging at him. Surely the vorpal sword would cut the metal stick in two, he thought. Perhaps the angry count would calm down, at least a bit, once he'd been safely disarmed.

Maybe he was right, or maybe he was wrong, but it didn't matter, because Marco never managed to land a single strike on the other man's weapon. Instead, the poker iron hit at the vorpal sword, point first, striking the flat of the blade every time, driving Marco backwards, one step at a time. He was pushed, slowly but steadily, further and further away from the window, from his only means of escape.

The drunk old count stumbled forward, again and again, slurring half-incomprehensible insults. Marco would swear that the man was about to collapse towards him, and yet, stumble by stumble, he pushed the squire further and further back, striking at the vorpal sword again and again, a terrifying force behind each seemingly uncoordinated lunge.

At first, Marco was too busy fighting for his life to notice that, well, he really _wasn't_ fighting for his life.

The man before him kept landing hits in the middle of the thin blade of his sword, never brushing against the edges with his own weapon, never missing or bypassing the blade itself either. That required incredible precision. If he had wanted Marco dead, it would have been trivial for the count to pierce his inexpert guard. Hell, even on accident it was more likely for him to stab Marco on each and every strike than to keep hitting just the flat of his blade! And yet, somehow, he kept landing those impossibly precise hits on the broad side of the sword.

Was the older man actually drunk? Or was it all just an act? It was difficult for Marco to discern. Again, it wasn't like he had ever been drunk himself!

One thing was clear, though… Old Guy's story? The one where Count Mildrew was this rich coward who had hid while everyone else did the fighting? Well, Marco was beginning to think that story had been… grossly exaggerated.

"Once… again," Mildrew mumbled at him. " _Why?_ "

"Because I was trying to help," Marco pleaded. "Because the people of Mewni need money to rebuild!"

"Liar!" the count shouted angrily.

He lunged at Marco once more, and this time he struck flesh.

It was only the back of his hand, wrapped around the pommel of the sword, and it was a shallow wound, barely breaking the skin. But Marco didn't immediately realize it. The surprise, more than the pain, caused him to drop the vorpal blade. It clattered through the floor. A thin trickle of blood from his right hand fell down after the weapon.

Marco reached into his pocket and pulled out the dimensional scissors. A pair of gold coins dropped out after them, hitting the stone floor with a soft clinking sound. The count's eyes followed the falling glint of the coins, if only for a moment, then climbed back up to the boy with renewed incomprehension.

"Why…?" the man trailed off. "It's… _hic_ … a simple... question."

In his desperation, Marco attempted once more to cut a portal before him, an escape route at best, a barrier between him and the other man at worst.

Nothing happened. Just like before, in the treasure room, the dimensional blades glided uselessly through the still portal-free air. Not that Marco had had much hope of it suddenly working now… definition of insanity and all that. Still, he had to try.

Something hit the back of the squire's hand, adding a thin deep bruise to the shallow cut from before, sending the scissors flying towards the hallway's inner wall. Before Marco realized what it was that had hit him, the poker iron was already being pulled back, gathering momentum for a final strike.

It flew fast into Marco's field of vision, faster than he could react, faster than he could move out of the way, barely slow enough for the boy to imagine his skull cracking as the sharp tip pierced the space between his eyes and lodged itself deep inside his brain.

In the slightly more forgiving world that was reality, the weapon stopped sharply an inch from his nose.

"Just answer…" Mildrew repeated. " _Why!?_ "

"Because I'm an idiot and was trying to impress someone!" a terrified Marco confessed, without thinking, as he stumbled backwards on reflex.

The count stopped in his tracks, arm and weapon frozen in place, pointing at where Marco's head had been. He fell silent for a second. His eyes seemed to look, not at Marco, but _way_ past him.

"A girl?" he asked, quietly. Slowly, he lowered the poker iron, aiming it at the carpeted floor.

"Y-yes…" Marco said. He just wanted Higgs to finally respect him as a fellow squire. It wasn't what the other man was probably thinking.

But that answer had made him stop attacking, so Marco wasn't about to go correcting the count if he didn't need to…

"Princess Star?" Mildrew asked in an absent tone, the hiccups suddenly gone. The slurring remained, but it had become more muted, secondary to the vast distance that had suddenly come into that voice.

Marco didn't like lying. Plus, he knew, he really wasn't any good at it. Instead, he looked down, sheepishly. His embarrassment was real enough, but it was instead caused by guilt at the same deception it served. The squire knew, and hoped, that the man would misread his unease as an admission.

"I see," the count said simply. Then he cracked a strange, knowing smile.

Mildrew looked at Marco, up and down, as if he were actually noticing him for the first time. The squire could track that examining glance through the corner of his own eyes, still firmly directed at the floor. He stood there in silence, as the nobleman muttered something to himself.

"For the reconstruction… the prince of the princesses'… yes… I see now…"

"I am sorry," the human boy ventured again. "I really am."

"Princess Star," Mildrew continued, ignoring his apology. "She is dating the Lucitor prince, is she not? Young Thomas?"

He seemed, at once, more composed and yet more distant than before.

"Yes," Marco answered. That, obviously, wasn't any kind of lie. So why did it feel like one?

"And she has taken it upon herself to aid Moon in the reconstruction," the count continued. It wasn't a question. "A heavy burden for one so young. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose."

The man knelt down and picked up the vorpal blade that Marco had broken. He examined it, carefully.

"Tell me, Marco Diaz," the man muttered, once again seeming unfocused and lost. "Do you believe you can… win the princess' heart back, by helping her achieve what she wants?… _hic_... by becoming the sort of man that would be useful to her?"

"I…" Marco wanted to say he didn't want to win Star's heart at all. That he wanted her back in his life, but only as what she had been before: his best friend.

Something stopped him from saying that, and it wasn't just the growing certainty that he was missing an ocean of subtext in the drunk man's words.

"I don't think she would want me to become a thief," Marco admitted.

"And yet, here we are."

Had the poker iron pierced his skull, Marco wasn't sure it could have hurt him as much as that reminder.

"I am…" the squire started.

"You are sorry," the count interrupted him. "Yes. I heard you the last few times."

Marco clenched his fists. He felt like crying. But, then again, what right had he to do so?

"I am such an idiot," the squire said.

"A fool in love," corrected the count, without either anger or sympathy.

He pointed at the fallen coins on the floor, using the tip of the poker iron, then at the fallen dimensional scissors a few steps beside them. "Pick them up. All of it."

"Um, what?" The squire stood there confused. "Those are…"

"Those are useless here," Mildrew completed the sentence. "Dimensional scissors, right? They won't work inside the castle, I have a Tramorfidian Crystal, stored in a room you couldn't hope to find. Or did you think you were the first thief to ever stumble upon a pair of scissors?"

Marco hadn't 'stumbled' upon those, actually. But this didn't seem like the time to bring up Hekapoo's quest. Besides, he actually _hadn't_ meant the scissors.

"The coins. Those are, well… yours," Marco explained, sheepishly.

"I think we have established that, yes." Mildrew smiled, and the squire wasn't sure if it was a good smile or a bad one. "Grab them, nonetheless, for now. I have my hands full, and I'd rather not give you back your blade just yet."

Right. Mildrew was wearing pajamas, he probably had no pockets to stuff the coins in. As for his hands, he was carrying the poker iron on the right, and Sir Stabby's vorpal sword on the left, so it would certainly be cumbersome to hold onto even a couple coins that way. Was that really all there was to the order, though?

Marco pocketed both the scissors and the gold.

"Now, follow me, Marco Diaz."

He did. He didn't have a choice. The count kept both weapons pointing down, but the boy knew just how quickly the man could move. Even worse, he seemed to be sobering up, fast.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, going down a few more floors of the castle. Marco was sure they were headed for the dungeon, or maybe to wait somewhere for the knights to arrive and arrest him. He felt almost at ease with the inevitable now. It was only imagining Star's and Lavabo's reactions that pained him still.

"Tell me," the count was the first to break the simmering silence. "How did you get in?"

Marco thought for a moment. The smart move was probably not to answer, but, then again, what harm could it do at this point? In the end, guilt more than anything else compelled him to speak.

"I portaled in," Marco admitted. "Not into the building. Onto a balcony."

A few more quiet steps.

"I see. The crystal's reach must end at the barrier, and you broke that with your sword, just as you did my wall." If Mildrew was mad about any of that, the voice didn't betray it.

"Look, you are going to tell me I already said it," Marco pointed out. "And I know it doesn't excuse what I did, but I _am_ sorry. About the wall, and about trying to rob you."

"Succeeding at robbing me, you mean," Mildrew pointed out. "Someone escaped down that rope. Did they not?"

Marco said nothing. He was not going to get Higgs in trouble too, no matter how dumb the two of them had been.

"So, what would have justified it, then?" the count asked. "Using the money to repair a few houses in town? To show Princess Star how helpful her best friend is? That she made a mistake in breaking up with you?"

There were so many things wrong with that characterization! Starting with, well…

"Actually, Star and I were never together," Marco pointed out for the millionth time.

"You too, eh?" Mildrew asked, noncommittally.

"Uh?" the squire asked in return.

This time it was the count's turn to keep silent, as they went down a further flight of stairs. Marco decided not to press the issue.

"The point is," Mildrew eventually added, "I doubt you'll do well competing with a Lucitor on money, kid."

If only! Look, the count had it all wrong, but even so, Tom really wasn't helping Star to begin with. So, if Marco actually _had_ done this because of Star, and not because he wanted to fit in with his fellow squires, it would actually not have been that hard to be more helpful than Tom!

Frankly, Marco thought, if the reason Star didn't want the squire around was because she didn't want him to distract her from becoming a better princess… then where the hell did Tom fit in that picture?

"Well, maybe _he_ should be helping rebuild Mewni instead," the squire mumbled.

"Maybe he will," replied Mildrew. "You think you know who he is now. You think you know that he is all wrong for her, and perhaps he is. Perhaps he will always be a flawed choice..."

It was eerie, and a bit shameful, to see his opinion of Tom so transparently reflected back to him.

"And yet, she _chose_ him," continued the count. "You'd be surprised how stubborn she can be with that choice, and how much he can grow because of it. The mind of a Butterfly woman is not an easy thing to change, and the heart… even harder."

Of course, it was all academic, since he was only letting the count _believe_ this was about Star.

The two of them came to a padlocked gate, at the bottom of a spiral staircase. Without much effort, Count Mildrew used the poker iron to remove the padlock and kicked open the left door. Marco, who had expected to see the inside of a cell on the other side of that door, was surprised to be greeted by a labyrinth of tall bushes, and the sight of the night sky above him.

"Uh. Wait. Where are we going?" he asked.

"I am going back upstairs to sleep," Mildrew said, calmly. "You, I assume, will be interested in knowing that the field of the Tramorfidian Crystal doesn't extend more than about fifty feet out from the castle's base."

That didn't make any sense. After everything he had done, after the count had fought so fiercely to stop him from escaping just moments before, he was just… being let go?

"Why?" Marco asked, surprise somehow overtaking even relief within his mind.

Mildrew chuckled, like he had remembered an old joke.

"Because, Marco Diaz, you remind me of someone," the count replied. "Chalk it up to your luck, if you wish."

"I… I am not sure I understand, but… thank you."

The older man extended his left hand forward, handing the vorpal sword back to Marco by the hilt. The squire took it. After all, if he didn't return it, Sir Stabby would kill Higgs, and then she would kill him. Ok, maybe not in that order, but…

"Wait!" Marco exclaimed, as he began rummaging through his pockets, collecting the golden coins and gems. "These are all yours. I am sorry. I know it doesn't make up for trying to take them in the first place, or for the wall, or for… for what my friends already took, but…"

"Keep it," Mildrew said, simply.

"What?"

"Take it. Flee. Use it however you will," the count explained. "I never did this. We never spoke. Tell your companions you escaped, tell the princess… anything but the truth. And good luck, Marco Diaz."

And that was when Marco turned around, ran to the edge of the anti-portal field without looking back, and cut a vortex back to Sir Lavabo's state, to never ever mention this day ever again.

Or, at least, that would have been the smart thing to do…

"You were in love with Queen Moon," he said, instead. It wasn't a question.

The count's gaze seemed fixed in some far off point in the mountains. If Marco hadn't known the geography of Mewni better than that, he would have thought he was looking towards Butterfly Castle. "I was. I am. I am trying… not to be."

So, the drinking… was all that about Star's mom? But, Moon had been married for at least fifteen years! That meant this guy had been pining after her since longer that Marco had been alive! That... didn't seem healthy, actually.

It was worse than when Tom had been obsessing over Star for a year, after they broke up. Except, well… hadn't that worked out for Tom in the end?

"But… King River," Marco pointed out, rather indelicately.

"I know, Marco Diaz," replied the older man, bitterly. "I do not fault River Johansen. I've known him almost as long as I have known Moon. We grew up together, after all. He is a good man. For a long time, though, I thought he wasn't good _enough_. I thought that, eventually, Moon would realize she had made a mistake in picking him. Of course, it was I who was mistaken."

"Queen Moon chose King River," Marco pointed out. "Like you said before, about Star, it's her choice to make."

It hadn't been about Star. Had it?

"Indeed," Mildrew agreed with a weak thin smile. "But I didn't always see it that way. Tell me, do you feel Thomas Lucitor is the right man to be by the princess side?"

"Look, Tom is a good guy," Marco said. "And Star wants to be with him. And, besides, he is the prince of the Underworld, it's good for the kingdom that they…" Ugh. He couldn't do it. He was beginning to sound like Etheria!

"That wasn't a yes," the count pointed out.

"Well, it's none of my business," Marco retorted. "It doesn't matter if I think Tom and Star are a good couple or not, what matters is what _they_ want. _I_ just want to remain friends with them!"

For a moment, Marco worried that the count would withdraw his offer of letting him go after that outburst. After all, wasn't the man only forgiving him because he saw himself in the squire? Wasn't confessing that he didn't want to date Star, or interfere with her current relationship, a slap in the face towards that notion?

Mildrew just chuckled. "You got there faster than I did, I'll admit. It took until Moon and River's marriage for me to fully come to terms with that fact."

"Their… marriage?" An image of Star and Tom walking down the aisle jumped into Marco's mind, uninvited. It wasn't that the idea made him angry, or sad, or anything like that. It was just… a weird thought.

"And do you want to know what I did, Marco Diaz, once I finally came to the realization that she had made her choice? That she had chosen River, and all that Moon and I would ever be, all we _could_ ever be, was friends?" Mildrew asked.

Marco didn't respond. It didn't seem like the kind of question that really invited a response.

"Why, I tried to be the best and most helpful friend she ever had, of course!" the count laughed. "I was a… sentimental kid growing up. She was Moon the Undaunted, Warrior Queen of Mewni. So, I became a warrior too. She had a monster army to chase, to the ends of Mewni if need be, and so I gave chase as well. I learned to hold my own with a sword better than most, and soon became Lord Captain of the Knights of Mewni. I fought for her and for the kingdom, and even made somewhat of a name of myself."

"The dragon…" Marco muttered. "You did kill the dragon, didn't you? Fifteen years ago. And you did it because of Queen Moon…"

"Oh, you heard about that? Yes, I did it to protect her, to protect _them,_ " Mildrew said. "At the time, that's what I thought I was doing. Fulfilling my duty, serving with honor, helping my friends… But, being honest with myself now, I was also still seeking to gain her admiration, her approval."

Ouch. That sounded… uncomfortably familiar. Palm trees, house robberies. How much of the stuff Marco told himself he was doing for other reasons were things he was doing because he was seeking someone else's approval?

Sir Lavabo had warned him, too, on his first week down in the Wash, that true honor is not about how others see you, but about how you see yourself. Had he failed to fully understand his meaning?

"You… didn't get the approval you sought?" the squire asked.

"In a word: no," Mildrew admitted. "Oh, I got plenty of approval. I was given honors and accolades, paintings and sculptures of my great deed. I became 'Count Mildrew the Dragonslayer'. I was always well-off, but suddenly I was richer than most anyone else in Mewni, even after paying my dues to the crown. Queen Moon personally thanked me, numerous times, for saving her family and her kingdom. And it took getting all of that… to realize that wasn't the kind of recognition I truly was after."

"It wasn't?" Marco asked.

"No," the count confirmed. "What I wanted was darker, and pettier, than I had allowed myself to believe. I wanted Moon to admit… that she had chosen wrong. Deep within me, I still thought that, if I could prove I was the better man, that she hadn't seen all there was to see about me, that she would, perhaps not undo her choice, but regret it."

"That's…" Marco wasn't sure what that was. It was sort of awful, actually. But, at the same time, he couldn't help but pity the man too. "You said you didn't realize that was why you were doing it?"

"Not until the night the dragon fell," Mildrew swore.

"And after that?" Marco asked.

"After that… I retired. I reclused myself from the public and spent the next fifteen years trying to put together the pieces of a life built on a lie of my own making," the count said. "You wouldn't be able to tell, seeing me now, but some days I've almost succeeded." He laughed.

Marco wanted to say something. To either offer the man sympathy or an admonition that he should put himself back together. Instead, he just said, "Fifteen years is a long time."

"It feels even longer," Mildrew replied. "So, that's why I am telling you this. I… debated whether I should. As corny as it sounds, I feel as if fate brought you here for a reason. When I was your age, hearing this story wouldn't have changed my path. But, still, it's not a road I can recommend. Marco Diaz, you say you want to be the princess' friend, and only her friend. Correct?"

"Y… yes," Marco answered, suddenly uncertain.

"Then make sure that's all you want," the count added. "If it isn't, if there's a single sliver of doubt in your heart, then I advise you: it's best to forget her now. Safer to leave Mewni altogether, sooner rather than later. Better that than to find out, years later, that you were just lying to her and to yourself."

The boy didn't have an answer to that. Surely he wasn't lying to himself, was he? Surely all he wanted was to have his best friend back? Surely he was in Mewni because of the Wash, and Lavabo, and the Rat's End, and the other squires and…

"And, please, Marco Diaz, don't ever mention this conversation to Star, or to anyone else," Mildrew finished. "I have confessed to much tonight. I have done it only because I cannot bear you following in my footsteps. But be warned, if you speak of this, then I will feel no regret in having all the other details of your night visit be known as well…"

Marco's theft, he meant. After all, the count had confessed to an embarrassing personal matter, but he held over Marco the knowledge of his actual crimes.

"Does that mean, that Queen Moon herself doesn't know?" the squire pointed out, ignoring the count's threat. "Have you… have you talked to her, in the last fifteen years?"

"Only when it has been truly unavoidable, for matters concerning the kingdom," Mildrew answered coldly. "Otherwise, I have stayed away. She doesn't know of my feelings for her, nor the shameful thing into which they eventually festered."

"But…" Marco struggled to put it into words. "But that means she has no idea why you stopped talking to her, doesn't it? All that she knows is that, one day, without explanation, her friend was no longer speaking to her… that he was avoiding her instead… for fifteen years..."

Her close friend, no longer happy to see her, no longer trying to make time for her. And she never knew why…

Was that what Star was doing to Marco? Could her reasons be something similar? No. No way! She was with Tom now, right? Then again, back before she had left Earth, Star had mentioned… no… she had _confessed_ that she had a crush on Marco. And, when they met again in Mewni, he had said nothing about it.

Marco had meant to talk to her about that. He had been meaning to do so since after the first night he spent inside the lint catcher. It was just awkward to bring it up in the letters and, well, things seemed to be getting better without that painful talk. At least, that's what Marco had thought… until he tried to call Star on her phone, and realized she had changed numbers.

"Um, sir, your countship," Marco asked, sheepishly. "I know this is probably going to be painful but, maybe, if nothing else has worked in fifteen years… maybe you could try talking to Queen Moon?"

The count's gaze grew sharp with surprise. "What would you have me say to her, exactly?"

"Well, maybe you could be honest about how you feel? I mean, I am not saying she will feel the same way, and she _is_ with River, but…" Marco struggled to put his thoughts into words. "I think that, if she saw you as a friend, then she might want to know why her friend stopped talking to her. She might want to know the reason, whether it's good or bad."

That was something Marco could empathize with, from personal experience.

"I am not saying she would be thrilled to hear any of this, but…" Marco doubled down. "But I am sure she would forgive you for it! After all, whether it was for the right reasons or the wrong ones, you saved her, and saved Star and River too, right? And, who knows, maybe that's what you need to hear? To move on?"

Mildrew's right hand trembled, ever so slightly. For a second, Marco thought he had gone too far. He had taken too many liberties with his advice to the obviously more knowledgeable and experienced man, advice that hinged on him opening wide some really painful wounds.

"Will you… will you tell Moon this? In order to save her the confusion?" the count asked. "Will you not be sworn into silence?"

"That's not it!" Marco protested immediately. "I swear. I swear I won't tell a soul about this. I swear it on the honor of the Wash! It wouldn't be my place to tell her anyways. But, I think… I think _you_ should."

For a long while, only the sound of the wind against the bushes was heard.

"Perhaps, Marco Diaz," the man conceded, his tone suddenly glacial. "Perhaps you are right. I need to think about this, later, when I am fully myself. But for now, I accept your promise. You should go."

Without waiting for Marco to reply, Count Mildrew went back inside through the half-open gate, slamming shut the wooden door behind him, leaving the squire no option but to depart.

* * *

The floorboards below creaked as she paced around the constraining space of the room. Normally, she would refrain from moving this much at night, if only to avoid waking up the neighbors. The Rat's End's walls and floors were always thin, even those like her own, without visible holes or rotten off sections in their wooden planks.

Hell, screw politeness, just the fact that she was so restless tonight could draw further suspicions her way!

Not that it mattered, though. The gig was up. She was doomed. Those that depended on her succeeding were doomed too, and all because Old Guy got greedy, because the 'prince' was overconfident, because… no. It wasn't _their_ fault. It was _hers._

She should have called off the search sooner. She should have asked Marco to try and open a portal as soon as they got to the treasure room. She should have made sure she went down the rope last, rather than leaving the weaker boy to guard the rear.

Corn dammit!

They had waited for him down there, hiding past the nearby garden bushes, out of sight. But instead of the exchange squire, the rope itself had fallen behind them, cut by someone on the other end. Higgs and O.G. had both taken that as their cue to leave.

Marco had been captured. Which meant that they were all in trouble. Him first, sure, but her and O.G. too, soon after. Unless… well, unless Marco refused to rat them out. Unless he took the fall for them.

But, no. Why would he ever do that? What had Higgs shown him that would inspire such loyalty?

No, the prince would talk, and then their lives would be forfeit.

Well, if he was lucky, maybe the goddamn princess would intercede on his behalf! Higgs couldn't count on any such clemency, though. And, even if he didn't sell her out - and again, she could hardly blame him if he did - then there was still the matter of Sir Stabby's priced sword!

Higgs glanced at the piles of coins in the corner of the single-room apartment, at the handful of rubies, the three diamonds, and the large sapphire. Right. She knew what she had to do. She had to distribute those tonight. The coins to those who needed them right now, and the gems to those who would use them for others.

Tomorrow she'd hang, but Count Mildrew was not getting his money back, it belonged to the Rat's End now. She could at least make sure of that.

 _Whoosh!_

She heard the recognizable sound behind her.

Higgs turned around, and there, by the irregularly curtained window, leaning against the wall, right beside the shimmering blue and purple vortex, was a familiar face, with an unfamiliar expression.

"Marco!" she exclaimed, surprised. She covered her mouth a moment later, remembering the thinness of the walls around them.

The boy didn't answer. His usually expressive face was entirely unreadable. He was angry. But not his usual sort of angry. Not angry like when she tripped him over, when he had been about to cry. Nor like during the Squire Blowout, when he was challenging her to a fight he probably knew he'd lose. This wasn't the kind of anger she had fun provoking him into. This was cold fury.

"Ok, alright, _prince,_ " she grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her, meeting hostility with hostility. "Sorry we didn't stay back to keep your ass out of trouble. But, in our defense, it seems you figured it out well enough on your own. Didn't you?"

A gleam of light caught her eye. A reflection, sunrise light filtering through the window, bouncing of the steel edge of the vorpal sword in the boy's bruised right hand. Higgs eyes went wide. No, he wouldn't!

Would he?

She sized up his expression again. If it had been Sir Stabby, and not Marco, she would have expected to find the blade at her throat already. She pushed her left foot back, widened her stance. Better safe than sorry.

Marco threw the sword on the floor.

"This is yours," he explained. Then, emptying his pockets, letting a small shower of golden coins and bright gems hit the rattling floorboards, he added, "this isn't. But you know who to give it to better than I do."

It took her a few moments to process his words. Even after she did, she wasn't sure if she should be thanking him, apologizing, chiding him for the way he had just basically thrown the coins for her to pick up, or something else. Eventually, she realized she had more pressing questions to figure out than what exact sort of bug had crawled up the boy's ass.

"Wait, did anyone… did anyone see you, _prince?_ " she asked, glancing again at his wounded hand.

Marco shrugged. Then he turned around, back towards the portal.

"Oh, and Higgs, in the future, if you have any other brilliant plans to help rebuild this place… keep me out of it."

"Fine!" she retorted, annoyed. "So that's it, then? You only care as long as it's no risk to you? As long as his highness is not inconvenienced?"

But by then the portal had closed. She had been yelling at the window.

* * *

Immediately after Marco entered the room, he turned around and zipped up the dimensional portal until it disappeared into nothingness. The last thing he wanted was for Higgs to follow him back here and press him for further details.

He leaned back against the wall and slowly lowered himself until he was sitting on the floor. Exhaustion hit him like a blunt club.

He wondered if he had been too harsh on her. Probably. Marco highly doubted she had planned from the start to ditch him on the manor's sixth floor. The relief in her voice as she spoke his name said that much.

She also probably had a _right_ to know. That he had been caught, that is. They were partners in crime, after all.

Besides, as much as he wanted to blame Higgs and Old Guy for roping him into that tense situation, Marco couldn't deny that it was his choice to go along with their plan. _He_ choose to rob someone. It didn't matter if Old Guy's tale about Mildrew's cowardice was real or made up. He still voluntarily choose to steal from someone he didn't even know.

Marco's slouch against the wall eventually turned into him lying on his side against the floor. He groaned in pain.

The boy couldn't quite tell what was causing the knots in his stomach. The guilt of going against a squire's duty to the people? The fact that he partly did it all to gain Higgs' approval? How close he had been to losing his life on Mewni, both literally and metaphorically? Or… was it Star?

And then there was Count Mildrew… the man who had earned the highest possible position in the Knights of Mewni, who single handedly slayed a dragon that was terrorizing the kingdom, and who was far richer than anyone outside Butterfly royalty.

It was so hard to believe that someone with all that fame and power would still feel empty inside, all because a single woman didn't view him the same way he _wanted_ to be viewed.

Marco stared off into the far wall, trying to put his thoughts in order. About the count, and about himself. In the end, he arrived at only a few new answers, and none he felt good about.

He got up and sat on his bed. Not the mildly uncomfortable bed back at Lavabo's estate that was made with piles of hay placed between a tattered old blanket and the hard wooden floor, but the soft, sheeted mattress in his room on Earth.

For some reason, this room felt like the safest place to be in right now. His Princess Turdina dolls and Mackie Hand posters had this nostalgic vibe to them, despite moving out of here less than two months ago. Being here allowed Marco to be as far away as possible from the things that were bothering him. The things that made the squire hang his head in shame and filled him with regret.

Well, most of them, at least.

Marco looked out his window, at the hundreds of electric lights illuminating the night sky from inside rows upon rows of suburban houses, with thousands of Echo Creek residents who didn't even know Mewni existed. Marco somewhat envied them right now.

A hand rubbed down his sweaty face.

Ugh, what was the point of all this? Coming back here? Feeling sorry for himself? At this point, he might as well brood in Star's old room while he's at it!

Marco frankly hated himself right now, for all the mistakes he had made since the start of Summer break. But, well, at least now he was self-aware enough to own up to them. Self-aware enough to _make things right_. And didn't he sort of owe it to Count Mildrew to pick a better path than the one he'd chosen?

That settled it. Next time he saw Higgs, he was going to explain what happened in that manor, all without explicitly alluding to Mildrew's opening up to Marco. That and, well, if Higgs didn't want to kill him after that, maybe they could work together and find a better, more legitimate way to help the mewmans in the Rat's End and beyond. It sounded like a stretch, but it was worth a try.

With Star, well, it's probably time they had a real talk, and not through letters where they could spend an entire morning or afternoon to think over how to respond, to figure out how to talk _around_ things, rather than about them.

They needed an actual heart to heart conversation about… them.

He should probably send her one more letter anyway, telling her that they needed to talk.

Oh! And probably an apology for not following up with her last letter from the morning with Janna…

Oh God! That had to have been three days ago by now! Star was either extremely pissed at Marco, or thought he didn't want anything to do with her anymore. In the later case, maybe she had already decided she wasn't losing much in the matter, and elected to focus back on her princess duties instead.

Either way, he had to face the music and settle things with her as soon as he could!

But first…

Marco went to his desk and picked up his phone. Since Mewni didn't have any electrical outlets, he left his phone here whenever it needed a charge. After all, it was as simple as cutting a hand-sized portal anywhere to retrieve it. It was one use of the scissors that had proven too convenient to ignore.

Mostly, though, he had sworn off interdimensional travel for himself. He needed to focus on his duty to the Wash, and his friends over there. If he regularly gave in to the temptation of coming back, of sleeping in his own bed, he'd soon be too soft to keep dealing with life in Mewni.

And, if he stopped over long enough to talk to his parents, to have a meal at home, well, then he might decide to stay forever back on Earth, or to run away to less exhausting adventures the way Janna had offered. That wouldn't be fair to Sir Lavabo. Hell, he'd feel guilty leaving Nick and Timore behind like that too, maybe even Higgs.

So, why was he violating his self-imposed rule today?

Well, he did have a reason...

Grasping the phone, with shaky hands and breath, Marco opened up his contacts and pressed the familiar name. He didn't allow himself any time to think it over and psych himself out of it. He just called her immediately.

The boy tried to clear his head as the phone rang in his ears, until he casually looked outside again and remembered how late it was.

 _Shit!_ He didn't even bother considering how she was probably asleep right now! He was totally gonna come across as that type of creepy ex-boyfriend who calls in the middle of the night, crying about what a mess he'd been since she left him!

"Marco?" Jackie Lynn Thomas said, picking up on the other line.

 _Double Shit!_

Marco closed the call immediately, dropped his phone on his desk, and took several steps away as if it was rigged to explode.

After a few tense seconds, Marco sighed.

Great work, Diaz! You don't talk to Jackie for months, and then when you finally have the balls to try and apologize, you mess up after the first word she says and hang up on her. Bra-fucking-vo!

Marco was already sweating non-stop since Mewni's sunset, but now he was pretty sure his body was made of 60% sweat! Maybe even more!

Was Jackie the type of person to tell anyone about this? He sure hoped not! Otherwise he'd have to seriously consider taking over the Wash _just_ to avoid dealing with that.

"Space Unicorn!  
Soaring through the stars!  
Delivering the rainbows,  
all around the world!"

As Marco's phone rang, the light of the morning sun crept into his room. His alarm clock read '6:02 A.M.'

"Ah."

Okay, so it actually _wasn't_ the middle of the night, but sunrise instead. That was… better, the boy supposed. He just needed to apologize to Jackie for waking her up. And then, well, apologize again for everything else.

With a little more confidence, Marco picked up the phone, clicked the green answer icon, and braced himself for whatever was coming next.

"Um, Jackie?"

"Marco! Hi!" Jackie said "Hey, uh, did you butt-dial me just now?" her voice sounded more curious than angry or irritated, which was pretty helpful for his nerves right now.

"Ah, n-no, not really. I mean, the dialing was very much intentional. I... wanted to talk to you," Marco said, stumbling over his words.

Jackie giggled a little at that. "Sure thing. I have time to kill until my next class. Shoot."

Marco looked at the clock again, confused. "Um, are you sure you don't want to pick this up later? It's really early. Didn't I wake you up?"

There was a brief pause. For a second Marco thought he said something weird…

"Did… Janna not tell you?" Jackie scoffed, followed by another pause. "Of course, leave it to Janna to do the exact opposite of what you ask of her."

"W-what about Janna?" Marco asked.

"Well, long story short, I'm not in Echo Creek. I'm spending my school year abroad. I'm in France right now, dude!"

France? For real? "Oh, wow. That's... amazing, that's so… cool." Marco had to stop himself from saying 'so Jackie.' It was this dumb phrase he came up with when they were first dating. Replacing every instance of the word 'cool' with the name of the coolest girl he knew would probably be awkward now…

"Yeah! It's a little after 3 p.m. where I'm at. It's like… I'm living in the future or something!"

"Yeah, hehe, it is kind of like that," Marco said.

"I know, I know, terrible joke," Jackie said. "I've convinced myself that at least one person back home would find it funny. The search is still on, I suppose."

"So… France," Marco said, sitting down as he struggled to come up with a France related topic. There wasn't much coming to mind. He _could_ ask how you actually pronounce croissant, but…

"Um, what's school like over there?" he finally asked.

"It's definitely different from how Echo Creek does things. Like, I actually live in this All-Girls dorm that's really close to the school itself, and as long as you go to your classes, you're free to go to town and do whatever you feel like. I still take a bus to my aunt's house for the weekends, but it's still a crazy amount of freedom for a teenager. They even let me use my skateboard!"

"Wow, that _is_ a lot of freedom," Marco said. Knowing Jackie, though, even if skateboards were outlawed in France, she still would've ridden hers everywhere.

He was honestly happy about how excited Jackie sounded talking about this, but as she went on describing the French architecture and cuisine, Marco couldn't help but wonder _why_ she had gone to study abroad in the first place.

But he already knew why...

"Jackie, I hate to interrupt you, but…" Marco took a deep breath.

"Oh, sorry! Didn't mean to go on a tangent," Jackie apologized. "What have you been up to lately?"

Another unsteady breath. "I… listen, I'm happy things have been going well for you, and maybe it's for the best that it turned out this way, but it still doesn't feel right that you…" here it goes. "...felt like you had no other choice but to do this."

After a few seconds, Jackie said "Uh, what're you talking about?"

"I mean… I wish I at least told you I was going to Mewni for the year. That way you could 've stayed in Echo Creek and… not have to worry about running into me…"

"Marco? What's wrong? Did something happen to you?" Jackie sounded concerned.

"I'm just trying to say I'm sorry for being the worst, and…" he gulped. "I'm sorry for ruining your summer."

"You didn't ruin anything, Marco," she said reassuringly. "Those three months we had were fun. I wouldn't have traded them for the world."

Marco noticed a tear going down his cheek. Was it the words she just said that made that happen, or the obvious lie behind said words? Was he moved by learning he wasn't as bad as he thought, or offended from being patronized by a girl that pitied him?

"Then, why did you go to France?" he asked.

"Honestly? It was probably because of Star," she said.

"Star?" Was this about the confession again? "I don't understand."

"Look, I know Star and I were never the closest friends, but even as a fellow classmate, I saw Star change a lot in the year she was on Earth. She went from this spazzy, low-key selfish brat, to someone that was a little more considerate and responsible. She complained about not wanting to be Queen all the time, but was still devastated when that book was stolen, and I know for a _fact_ that a lot of your great qualities rubbed off on her."

River had mentioned that as well, not too long ago, but Marco hardly felt like someone to look up to now.

"And, well, she found _you!_ Her best friend in the universe! She never would've found you or learned to be more responsible if she hadn't left Mewni."

That made Marco feel a little better, at least, his current dilemma with Star notwithstanding.

"But… how does France come into this?" He asked.

"Because, for the longest time, I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted. But all that changed when we didn't work out. I realized there was something missing in my life, and I wouldn't find if it I just spent another year in Echo Creek. I needed… something outside my comfort zone, something that would challenge me and my perceptions of myself, and maybe even find someone who could help bring out that better version of me."

Wow. Marco was astonished by Jackie's sheer determination to improve herself. In fact, it was downright inspiring!

He certainly could see how that was similar to what her year in Earth had meant for Star, or what his own two months in the Wash had become for him. Only, of course, he hadn't been nearly as self-aware or proactive about it as Jackie.

The boy honestly had just been daydreaming about how he was going to be this awesome knight the moment he walked back into Mewni. Frankly, Marco wanted to give his own two months younger self a swift kick on the rear right now.

"Has it worked out for you? Being the better version of yourself, I mean," he asked.

Laughter rang into his ear. "It's only been two months, dude! A little too soon to check the status of the metamorphosis, don't you think?"

"O-oh right? Sorry," Marco said, embarrassed. That was… fair. And reassuring, for the both of them, actually.

"It's all good. Though, in terms of challenging my perceptions of myself, that is a can of worms I barely turned the opener for!" More laughing could be heard on the other side.

"What do you mean?" Marco asked.

"Er, nah, I shouldn't have said that. Don't worry about it."

Marco was now curious. "I promise not to tell anyone. Well, I don't actually have the best track record of keeping promises I've made to you, but I promise _this_ promise will be different!"

"Are you sure you want to know? It might make you… self-conscious." Jackie said.

"If there's something that's been eating you up, Jackie, then I want to help you through it. I may have been a shitty boyfriend, but let me try to be a good _friend_ to you"

"A-alright. I'll… trust you with this. You promise not to tell anyone, right?"

"I promise," Marco said with conviction.

Jackie took a moment to prepare herself. "So I… I think I may like girls…"

...

Oh.

Oh _wow._

That really _was_ a bombshell. One he wasn't ready for at all...

"O-oh really?" Marco uttered, unsure how to take this news.

"Uh, maybe it was too soon to say it out loud. Especially to you of all people. I'm sorry, Marco…"

Oh no. He didn't sound disappointed in her, did he? "Jackie, It's nothing to be sorry for. I mean, if that's how you feel, I guess-"

"But _is_ it how I feel, though?" Jackie asked, cutting him off. "A part of me feels like I'm just desperate, you know? Like, I just broke up with my boyfriend, and a couple of weeks in France later, I start… feeling things for my dorm roommate. Someone I just became friends with! Am I just latching onto the first person I get along with?"

Marco needed to choose his next words carefully. "I… can't say for sure. I never met this girl, or have seen you interact with her. She's probably nice, but at the same time, I was never an advocate of the whole 'Love at First Sight' thing. That concept always seemed silly to me."

"...Yeah. I suppose you're right," Jackie said solemnly. "Well, I appreciate you being honest with me, Marco."

" _But_ … I don't think you should worry about whether or not you're in love. The bottom line is: you're attracted to girls, and… that's great! It's really awesome that you're being honest with yourself about that!"

Marco immediately covered his mouth. He forgot that he was still in his house in the early morning and shouldn't raise his voice so much. He might wake his parents.

For a brief moment, he wondered where Jackie was at this moment. Well, France, obviously, but had she secluded herself away from the school grounds in order to talk about this delicate subject with him? That image of a vulnerable Jackie was one Marco thought he'd never fathom.

Eventually, Jackie responded. "But, how can I know for sure? What if I'm-"

"You may not be ready to fully, well, identify as that yet. It'll take time for you to know for sure. It may even take the entire school year, but for now, don't make excuses for those feelings and just accept that they're there. It's okay if you're not sure about yourself. Hell, there's a lot of things I've realized about myself since coming to Mewni."

"Really? Like what?" Jackie asked. "Unless you're uncomfortable with saying it to me. But, uh, I feel like I kinda owe you now. Talking to you has been a big relief so far."

Her saying that made Marco's day, honestly. "I don't mind telling, though, it's mostly the bad things I found out about me."

"Come on dude, don't be like that," Jackie protested.

Marco chuckled. "I mean it though! This whole thing has been like a huge wake up call for me, and God knows I needed one after that Summer break. At least by acknowledging those bad things, I can work on them, right?"

"Alright, fair enough. So... go ahead."

Among the many movie and Love Sentence posters that comprised his bedroom wall, Marco looked at a noticeable empty spot. That spot was where he had hung his knight cape when he wasn't wearing it, which is to say it wasn't there very often.

"I've realized that I can have a really big ego sometimes, and it's made me believe that I deserved things that I haven't actually earned..."

He then noticed a single gold coin on the floor, one that was left over from the raid on Mildrew's Castle. Marco would have to donate it to some mewmian fundraiser at a later date.

"...And there are times where I'm so desperate for someone's approval, I'll resort to doing some really dumb stuff…"

As he grabbed the coin and put it on his desk, he saw a framed photo of him and his best friend. It was from their camping trip last year.

"...And I think I may have feelings for Star."

"Oh, you _definitely_ do. I've known that since the night Star ran away and you freaked out over it," Jackie said in the most straightforward of tones.

Marco sighed. It all made sense now. Jackie letting Marco go was never about him fulfilling his knightly dreams in Mewni. It was so he could go to Star! Ugh, how could he be so dense!

Jackie probably heard Marco groaning. "Hey, chill out, you don't need to worry about me. All that stuff is water under the bridge. There's nothing bad about you liking Star."

"But… she's with Tom now. They got back together before I even got there."

"O-oh. _Oh._ Damn, that… does kinda suck…"

"I feel like I need to talk to her about it, but we haven't spoken in person since the day I arrived. And even _when_ I finally tell her, I'll feel like a massive asshole. Want to know how I handled Star's confession? I didn't even properly reject her, Jackie. I straight up pretended it never happened! And now I'd be putting her in that spotlight. That isn't fair to her."

Not to mention Tom. If his friend found out about this, he'd never look at Marco the same way again. Tom would stop trusting him altogether, both as Star's friend _and_ her clothes cleaner.

"Hey, it's okay, dude," Jackie said. "I get things between you two may stink now, but as long as you talk to her about it and, well, properly apologize, I'm sure you two can work it out."

"I know, it's just, I feel like no matter how I go about, I'll mess everything up, and things won't be able to go back to the way they were. What if my feelings for her get in the way?" Marco asked. "I mean, they already got in the way of… us, didn't they?"

Maybe for the first time, Marco felt like he truly understood Count Mildrew. Was this what it was like for him with Moon? This dreadful feeling about how even if someone you liked was your best friend in the universe, it still wouldn't feel like it was enough?

"Maybe you should take your own advice then," Jackie suggested.

"M-my advice?"

"You know, just... don't think all that much about it, but at the same time, don't go into denial over it. Just accept that you have feelings for her, and that it's okay."

"But, _is_ it okay?" Marco asked.

"Well, you wouldn't have been friends with Star in the first place if there wasn't _some_ level of attraction on your end, right? Maybe it's love, maybe it's admiration, maybe you just miss spending time with her. Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll be fine."

After hearing her say that, Marco suddenly became less certain about how he viewed Star. Did he really envy Tom's relationship with Star, or just the opportunities to spend time with her? Did he have a crush on Star, or just respected her newfound ability to grab her responsibilities by the reins, and wished to be on the same level as her?

For the longest time, Marco thought he was in love with Jackie, but he wasn't. Growing up together, she always seemed like everything Marco wasn't: cool, popular, confident. Was he more into the idea of being her, rather than being _with_ her?

"Jackie, for what it's worth, I am genuinely sorry for how I treated you when we were together. I promised I would try to get to know the real you, but, I was too focused on myself and… Mewni to go through with that promise." There were no tears as he said it. This wasn't about how it made him feel, it was about owning up to the way he had acted. It was a proper apology this time.

Jackie paused for a moment at the sudden change of subject. "Well, yeah... but, dude, I guess you're doing that right now. You're the first person I told the whole girls thing to. As it stands, you know the real me more than anyone else."

Oh! That was a good point! Marco didn't even realize that.

"So… better late than never?" Marco said.

Jackie chuckled. "You're a pretty great guy, Marco Diaz, all in all. I'm really happy we're still friends."

"Yeah, me too." He smiled.

"Anyway, I really need to get to class. It was great talking to you. Good luck with the Star stuff, Marco. I believe in you."

Marco had lost track of time himself. He looked at the clock and it read '6:21.' Lavabo had already opened up the Wash by now, and without his squire by his side, it was gonna be a rough start. Style Chimeras had been showing up nearly every morning these last few days. They were annoying and bizarre spirits which would surround themselves in haphazard mash-ups of shirts, pants, and shoes that had no business being together. Sir Lavabo had described them as not so much fashion forward as, well, fashion _sideways_. They usually needed to be exorcised before the day could properly begin.

"Um, thank you. Thanks for everything, I mean," Marco said. "Hey, um, do you want to hang out sometime? I still have my scissors. You could show me around France one day… as a friend."

"Oh, man, I would _love_ that, dude!" Jackie exclaimed. "Let's text each other about it tonight."

"Deal. Talk to you later," Marco said.

"See ya."

 _*Click*_

Marco was planning to ask her if she wanted to teach him skateboarding when he got to France, but something inside his head stopped him.

Even without the meat blanket or Mewni occupying his attention, Marco probably wouldn't have done it back when they were dating either. Skateboarding had always seemed too intense for him. At least bikes had brakes.

But for the longest time he thought that the only way to make it up to Jackie was to pick up the sport he had promised her to learn. Perhaps the robbery attempt made him realize that grand gestures like that weren't necessary. He just needed to work up the courage to talk to her again, which was apparently more than enough for Jackie.

As he opened the portal to the inside of the Wash, Marco wondered if that would be enough for Star. Or Higgs, for that matter.

Either way, Marco felt like he had learned a lot from Mildrew. He didn't want to live the rest of his life with any regret or shame, and certainly not without talking to the people he cared about. Marco would fix his problems and mistakes, one at a time. He had started with Jackie, and then would fix things with Star.

Also, eventually, he'd need to think long and hard about another thing that had been invading his thoughts recently. Once the next summer arrived, what would he ultimately choose? A peaceful life on Earth, or a chivalric existence on Mewni? On which side of the portal, was that life without regrets he wanted to have?

Well, like he had just said… one step at a time. He had plenty of more urgent issues to address.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Another mega long chapter with another mega conclusion to this arc! Hope you enjoy and please look forward to Chapter 16, where things really start to get intense!


	16. Chapter 16: Growing Up, Part 1

Running. That's all the brave squire could do at this point. He ran as fast as his legs could allow and then some, avoiding any jutting rocks or vines that could spell his doom were he to trip on them.

Larkin had heard of the dangers associated with the Forest of Certain Death many times, but his knight had assured him that there was really nothing to worry about. "Legends and nonsense, and some wild animals, and those dumb filthy monsters, of course, same as ever, nothing to fear as long as I am around," he'd said.

The poor fool. By now, the elmbeasts were probably done licking the meat off his bones. It didn't take a prodigy to know what or, most likely, _who_ they would be going after next.

Darn it all! How did such a routine search for monster hideouts turn into this nightmare!?

Larkin heard rustling in the bushes to his left. He cautiously turned his head and, to his horror, saw one of them behind the bushes. His legs stopped moving on their own, perhaps in fear that running now would only excite the beast and hasten his inevitable death.

A daunting silhouette, almost twice his height, loomed over him. The thick leaves of the forest didn't allow much sunlight to peer through, but the shape of the fell creature was unmistakable!

As Larkin tried to get a grasp on his surroundings, another silhouette appeared, then another, then again, until he was surrounded by a full blown pack!

"Growl… growl..." a noncommittal voice said.

Was this it? Was this the end for the squire? Had all of Larkin's intense training been for nothing? Fate truly was a cruel mistress...

But as he was about to give in, a thought occurred to him. His knight, Sir… person? No, Pearson! Sir Pearson. He was the personal bodyguard of the princess, Star Butterfly.

Now that he was gone, who would be able to protect her from constant danger? Dangers like… well, like...

Tom Lucitor, for example!

Larkin didn't think of himself as being _particularly_ invested in the personal dramas of royalty. But even he had heard rumors that the Butterfly princess and the demon prince had a nasty break-up not too long ago. Not taking it too well, Lucitor had apparently destroyed a mewman village in a blind rage.

Typical demon behavior, Larkin supposed, but what if a mewman village hadn't been enough to quell his anger? What if, next time, he took it out on the _source_ of that anger?

That mental image was too cruel to exist. Larkin wouldn't allow that to happen!

It was settled. He would come out of this forest alive, take over Sir Whatever's position as royal bodyguard, and protect Star Butterfly with all his might! For the honor of the Butterfly-

"Oh for the love of… just shoot the dumb things!" An impatient voice, which had no appreciation for the art of dramatic build up, cried out.

Larkin sighed. He took out his wooden bow, readied one of his handcrafted arrows, and fired it at the closest elmbeast.

At this point, one of them would probably try to lunge at him, so he did a quick somersault to the right for good measure, then shot an arrow to the one he landed near. The cries of their deaths should have echoed throughout the woods, but of course he wasn't gonna be that lucky with her.

After a few more rapid shots and jumps out of the way, every elmbeast around him now had an arrow between their eyes.

The threat was finally neutralized, and with Sir Pearson being properly avenged, the squire basked in his sense of accomplishment. A flawless victory!

"Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Our dashing young knight has done it again!"

Atop a branch sat one of Larkin's friends. Perhaps, if he was being honest, Larkin's _only_ friend these days.

It was a young girl. If you eyed her only briefly, she could perhaps pass for a mewman of around his own age; even the wings weren't too out of place, so long as you were willing to believe she was royalty. That's what she had claimed she was, after all, when Larkin first met her. He had been out late in the forest's outskirts, cutting firewood for last year's winter.

"A magical princess, from another world," she had declared herself, with a bright smile and a theatrical flourish.

But Larkin's friend wasn't mewman, and she certainly didn't act like royalty. She was a wild thing of the forest, with pale brown skin and long flowing yellowish-red hair - like her namesake in autumn. She was very pretty, which made her aversion to the twin mewman concepts of clothing and modesty all the more confusing for the teenage boy.

It had taken him months to regard her nudeness as normal, to stop his eyes from nervously shying away from her sight, and, just as nervously, sneaking a glance back at the girl. It had taken him even longer to get used to her taunts and her games, to the irreverent attitude with which she regarded everything the young mewman had been taught to believe. To get entirely used to such a wild friend was impossible, of course, or at least, that's what Larkin hoped.

"You reek of sarcasm again, Willow," Larkin said, rolling his eyes. "I told you to stop treating me like a kid. For real this time, how did I do?" He was pretty confident with his practice run, but the fairy's teasing always made him second-guess himself.

She kicked herself off the branch and fell towards the ground, lightly flapping her wings to soften the impact of her landing. "Well, your aim certainly has gotten better. You're also very good at running away from imaginary things. That and… _gosh_ , those are the _only_ compliments I can muster!" She giggled in childish delight.

The boy grumbled as he retrieved his arrows from the wooden cutouts they had placed around their training area, representing the fierce elmbeasts he would have had defeated… if the whole thing had been for real. "Hmph, I guess it doesn't matter what some weirdo like you thinks. Once I finally meet my knight in a few days, I'll have a proper, mewman, evaluation. Then I'll know how far I am from achieving my dream, though I already have a _pretty_ good idea-"

"You, kid, know nothing…" Willow said. She sounded disinterested, cold, apathetic… a far cry from her usual sarcastic but convivial mockery of the young mewman.

Larkin was taken slightly aback by the girl's sudden change in tone. Nonetheless, he pretended to sound indifferent in return. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

With her arms stretched out, Willow began spinning around on one leg.

"Do you really think you're doing anything worthwhile here? I don't think so! You're just a little kid playing pretend. Wishing you're something you'll never be!"

The fairy stopped spinning and tried to balance herself in her state of dizziness.

"I don't mind, though! You're pretty fun to kill time with, Larkin, but I know that if a _real_ elmbeast doesn't crush your 'dream' of knighthood, then reality and time certainly will!" she said, matter-of-factly. "Those are the fiercest beasts around here, by the way, not anything made of flesh or bark or stone."

"You… you don't think I have what it takes? To be a gallant knight?" he asked, flustered.

"Nope!" she said bluntly. "Not at all, in fact. I've seen starry eyed fools like you for many, many years. Tattling off about chivalry and fighting for the people, just to quit once they realize the risks and effort involved."

Well, that made sense. Larkin already knew how many people never made it past squire. Some quit in frustration, others ran away after their very first real battle, while certain ones stayed as squires till they're practically skeletons. It was kind of sad, but if being a knight was for everyone, then it wouldn't be such a prized title to begin with.

"How do you know I'll end up like those 'fools'?" Larkin asked pensively.

Willow walked up to him and poked him on the forehead. "It's your motivation, you dum-dum. It's lame."

"M-my motivation?" Of all the things Willow could criticize him for, he was expecting her to bring that part up the least. It was the only thing she _hadn't_ made fun of him for before.

"Yes. The thing that drives you is too abstract. That stuff you bring up all the time like it's your catchphrase? Honor? Who cares? Honor doesn't do anything for you. It doesn't tell you what to achieve, at most it tells you how _not_ to achieve it. Honor is what idiots strive for when they _don't know_ what they want."

She started getting closer and closer to Larkin, until his back was against one of the makeshift elmbeast cutouts.

"From what I've seen, those who have the most selfish motivations for becoming knights tend to be the ones who succeed. The ones who want money, women, and fame. All of those are far more tangible than honor, and bring immediate direct happiness. It's also why they work harder for it than goody good-guys. Nothing can beat true ambition!"

Larkin swallowed uncomfortably. Where was this coming from? Whenever he had told Willow his aspirations for knighthood, she would simply tease or laugh at him. Why was she bringing this all up now?

"But don't worry, Larky-Barky. You're not a lost cause or anything like that. Everyone has self-serving desires. You just have to put yours into words, and then embrace that part of yourself."

Her bare feet were now touching Larkin's shoes. Her… chest… was in contact with his shirt.

Larkin gulped before Willow spoke against his ear.

"Now, just tell your bestie what you truly desire. Be fully, rottenly, honest. What's the _real_ reason why you want to become a knight? Tell me, and then we'll go find a real elmbeast tonight. All you have to do is visualize it as an obstacle, standing between you and your true goal. Do that, and you'll be surprised at how quickly you can kill it. Trust me."

There was something hypnotic about the forest creature's words. She was less fairy and more siren now, and the fact that she was naked made the comparison even more apt.

The mewman reached into his pants pocket. Inside was his most prized possession: a portrait of Star Butterfly that was done during her wand ceremony, downsized and replicated tenfold to sell as merchandise to commoners. Larkin had spent a few months worth of allowances on that single picture, and carried it wherever he went.

He gripped the picture tightly, not to take it out and show Willow, but to _hide_ it from her.

"I'm sorry, Willow," Larkin began. "But I don't have anything like that. I... just want to help my kingdom and its people. There's nothing else to it..."

Larkin tried to find a reaction in Willow's expression after saying that, but he found nothing. It was the most stoic her face had ever looked, actually.

Finally, she got off the boy, walked away, and huffed, letting air fill her soft cheeks.

"Geez, and here I was trying to be a good friend. Trying to prepare you for the dog-eat-dog world you were about to dive into." Willow skipped towards one of the elmbeast cutouts, wrapping her hand around the arrow that was lodged into it.

She effortlessly ripped the arrow off the wood, and turned to Larkin. After staring at him for a few seconds, she just as easily broke the arrow in half, only using the fingers on the one hand holding it. The pieces fell to the ground.

Willow turned around and headed a few steps deeper into the woods, where light began to get crowded out into darkness by the dense foliage overhead.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Willow added, as she made her exit.

"I really am sorry!" Larkin shouted, before she potentially sprinted away and he lost sight of her. It was typical of her to run away unannounced like that, as soon as she got the slightest bit bored from being around him. And once she was gone, then it was always a crapshoot whether she would show up again the next day, or in a week, or the month after.

Instead of stopping, Willow simply waved her hand as she slowed herself into a walk. "Don't worry about it. I'm not mad at you or anything. You'll see things my way... eventually."

"No, not that," he said, slightly softer. "I feel sorry for, well, you."

Without giving him even a moment to exhale after that sentence, Willow appeared right in front of Larkin again, causing the teenager to back up hurriedly and nearly fall backwards from the surprise.

You could call it super speed, or perhaps it was teleporting, but one thing was for sure, that had been magic. Willow rarely showed off her powers like that to her friend, despite her original claim of being a magical princess. It was weird, actually, because she seemed like the type of person that would abuse those talents nonstop.

"What do you mean you 'feel sorry for me'?" she said. Despite it being a question, it sounded more like an order.

"I mean..." Larkin sweated a little. "Look, I know you've been around for a long time, and I probably seem like a newborn to you, not even just a kid. I don't have much experience with the world compared to you. I'm just the son of a farmer, and-"

"Get to the point!" Willow barked.

Larkin, for the first time, realized how sharp, how pointed, how positively knife-like, the fairy's teeth were.

"You must have seen a lot of terrible people in your life, if you think that's how the world works. And… I guess that's kind of sad. That's why I feel sorry for you. You're so cheerful and happy that I never would've assumed that's how you really saw everything."

Willow's face seemed to loosen up a little. Her expression was no longer angry or offended. Just… confused.

The boy grabbed the forest sprite's hand with both of his.

"Willow, I want to change your mind about us mewmans. I'm gonna become the most selfless, honorable knight the Butterfly Kingdom has ever seen. And no matter how many people of the type you described I run into, I won't let them get to me. In fact, I'll help _them_ become better. You'll see that the world isn't as bleak as you say it is. I'll show you how wonderful Mewni is, how noble mewmans can be!"

"I…" Willow uttered, seemingly speechless.

Larkin let go of her hand, hoping he hadn't somehow made her even _more_ angry. The last thing he wanted was to become a newt right before his first day of squirehood.

Willow looked at her hand wistfully. "Huh, you really do have a way with words, Larkin. I almost bought into your cheesy promises. Almost," she said, smiling. "Heck, I'm even willing to believe _you_ believe it, but that still doesn't make it real. That's just not how the world works."

"Heh, well, if my words are not enough, then I guess I'll just have to go all the way and become a knight then," Larkin said, blushing.

Willow seemed to think for a moment. "How about we make it more interesting?"

"Interesting?"

"Yeah! Let's make this a bet between us. It'll be a battle between world views. Your hokey-pokey positivity, and my obviously correct sentiment that it's every mewman for himself."

The boy was pretty confused about where she was going with this, but it seemed better than the alternative of her being mad at him still. "Um, okay. So, what exactly are we betting."

She jumped up and hovered in the air with her wings. "It's simple. I bet that you won't be able to become a knight of Mewni, and you bet that you will!"

Larkin nodded. "But… isn't this more about the type of person I am _by the time_ I get knighted?" If he got knighted by turning into a backstabbing jerk who took advantage of everyone, well, would that really count as 'winning' on his part?

"Don't worry about that stuff. I'm not concerned with the bet itself. The way I see it, this will go one of two ways: You don't become a knight because you were too soft, proving me right, or you become a knight by doing _exactly_ what I said you needed to do, proving me right. So I win either way."

Oh. That sorta made sense. It seemed like the odds were stacked against him in that regard, but Larkin didn't mind. If anything, he was more determined than ever to prove his friend wrong!

"And what if I was right all along," Larkin ventured. "What if I can become an _honorable_ knight?"

"I'll grant you one wish," Willow said nonchalantly.

"Wait, you grant wishes!?" Larkin said. Was she pulling his leg again?

"Only on special occasions, and this definitely constitutes one," she said. "I'll give you whatever you want, _if_ you can get knighted without getting your hands dirty. Not even once!"

Larkin's mind immediately went to the picture in his pocket. Or rather, the person _in_ the picture.

Could she actually do it? Probably. But wait, wouldn't wishing for that sort of thing count as forcing the princess against her will to love him? That wouldn't be right...

Maybe he should wish for something more noble instead? Like... a house for every citizen?

Well, he could figure out that stuff later though. Even if this was all just a prank on Willow's part, what did he have to lose by agreeing?

"Okay," he finally said. "I'll agree to this bet."

Willow smiled and lowered her body to his level. "Let's shake on it then. Once we do, the bet is active until you die or get knighted."

He grinned. "Deal!"

The boy, still uncertain, reached up and grabbed the fairy's hand.

His fate was settled.

* * *

"Marco Diaz, what brings you to the opposite side of the Wash's pick up counter?" Lavabo asked curiously, trying to delicately tear the rest of the sticky substance off his beard and mustache. He winced in pain as another clump of white hair was removed, revealing the skin under his chin.

"Some of the gunk in the blast made it all the way over here, Sir. Just taking care of it before we leave," Marco said.

This day in the Wash had been another interesting one. Everything was going fine at first, until Marco had heard some disconcerting rumblings coming from bucket 18. His anxiety over the situation only got worse when he climbed the ladder up to the top of the massive bucket and realized that all the liquid in it was bright pink!

Now, usually, before _any_ piece of clothing was put into a Wash bucket - never mind bucket 18, of all places! - one would be expected to empty all its pockets, take note of where the items belonged, then return them to their clothing of origin as soon as it was dry cleaned. The later was important because, for some stupid reason, the Wash was held accountable if someone's possessions got damaged or lost. Apparently, washing the entire kingdom's clothes in the first place just wasn't enough!

Marco hated the unnecessary busy work at first, but had eventually done it enough times that he didn't mind it so much anymore. He zoned out one day and had accidentally left Sir Dashing's mirror in his uniform, cracking it slightly and leaving the grown man in tears, but that had been the squire's only mistake up to that point.

As soon as Marco alerted Lavabo of the situation, the old man rushed over to the bucket, beating Marco back there by a solid twenty seconds.

"This is a very serious error on the Wash's part," Lavabo said to Marco, as he dipped his hand into the liquid brew within the wash-bucket and subsequently licked his fingers, to the boy's mild alarm. "This is unlike you, my squire, to make such a rookie slip-up."

"Um, Sir Lavabo, I didn't sort through or fill bucket 18. That was… Artax Ed."

Lavabo blinked. "O-oh. Of course. That is more understandable. My apologies, Marco Diaz."

Marco had really underestimated the intelligence of horses on Mewni. He thought his knight was joking when he suggested that their stead start learning the more intricate responsibilities of the Wash, but no, to his surprise, Artax Ed had been picking it all up rather quickly. He was already able to sort through the piles, transport the clothes via wheelbarrow, and dump them all in the buckets. Basically, he could do anything that didn't require fingers.

Artax Ed was even able to empty pants and coat pockets using his mouth, but the guilty expression with which the colt regarded the knight and squire at that point showed he had missed something.

Ignoring for now the horse's big sad eyes and lowered head, Lavabo proceeded to explain the situation to the squire.

"A stick of gum!? All of this is happening because some jerk left a stick of gum in their pants!?" Marco exclaimed.

"That would be the best case scenario, Marco Diaz," Lavabo said. "But I fear we may be dealing with an entire pack here! There's a reason we don't allow foreign objects to be submerged in these buckets. Many of the magical cleansing potions we use can have… bizarre reactions, when touching certain everyday objects. And the dry cleaning buckets in particular are full of some of the more, well… temperamental mixtures."

The tremors coming from within the bucket were getting worse. 'Temperamental'. Marco had been working for Lavabo long enough to know a severe understatement when he heard one.

He grabbed Artax Ed and ran for cover.

What followed was an explosion of wood, nails, and bubble gum, hitting nearly every wall and surface within the huge stone chamber, blasting apart some of the other - nearest or weakest - washbuckets. Marco and Artax hid behind one of the clothes piles, while Lavabo stood in front of a pile and _defended_ it from the blast, using his own body as a shield.

Perhaps Marco should've followed his knight's example, but he did _not_ want this stuff on his favorite hoodie! Or Artax Ed's growing Winter coat, for that matter.

All the piles were now covered in gum, several buckets damaged, and Artax's wheelbarrow buried under the pink gunk. But, of course, it didn't end there. It wasn't ever _that_ simple down here.

Soon, the giant clumps of chewing candy began to move on their own, and several of the smaller pieces joined together to form big pieces, and those big pieces joined together in turn, giving rise to even more shambling giant clumps.

Next thing Marco knew, he, Lavabo, and Artax Ed were up against an army of living gum monsters, because _of course_ they were. _Everything_ in the Wash at one point turns into a monster and attacks you. That's just how things worked around here, and Marco had accepted it by now.

The ensuing battle was long and tedious. Everything they threw at the lumbering gum-beasts was ineffective. In fact, after every strike, they would lose their grip and the weapon they had would merge with the gum-beast's ever growing bodies. Lavabo's enchanted mop had been the one to hold out the longest, but in the end, even it had become dry enough and gunked enough, and in it went!

The creatures were huge, but dull and aimless. Unlike, say, the garment goblins, they didn't seem to have a goal in mind, they just sort of, well, meandered about the place… but they were still making a mess of things!

Marco eventually remembered a home remedy for gum that his mom used on him, to remove the chewed gum Janna had stuck to his hair back in elementary school.

So the squire made a portal to his parent's kitchen, grabbed a jar of peanut butter and a bottle of cooking oil, and well, emptied their contents on one the monsters.

To his surprise, it was pretty effective. It's body was becoming more stiff and less sticky, til the gum creature wasn't so much moving as it was… pulsating in place.

Unfortunately, the peanut butter and cooking oil were used up before he knew it, and there were at least another dozen of those things roaming around the place.

Rather than go through the time consuming effort of portaling to an Earth supermarket and buying more supplies, the squire decided to wing it and see if anything else in his parent's kitchen would prove useful. He brought out olive oil, lemon juice, tartar sauce, chocolate syrup, gravy, bacon fat, hummus, baba ghanoush, and his dad's specialty guacamole for good measure.

Marco threw it all on his immobilized adversary, and by some miracle, the random assortment of condiments was even more effective against it. The gum made a depressing cry as it started melting, wicked witch style.

"Bravo, Marco Diaz! Your resourcefulness has done it again!" Lavabo cheered, as he tried to retrieve King River's loincloth from another gum monster.

After that, it only took them half hour to dispose of the rest of them. Marco then cut one last portal to his folk's kitchen, where he left $650 on the counter. Hopefully that was enough to cover their next trip to the grocery store.

Despite how hectic that explosion, and the resulting 'Attack of the Blob' disaster, had been, Marco was almost surprised at how… expected all this was. He'd been at the Wash for two months, and he couldn't help but think he'd mastered most of it by now.

The work here was very strict, and everything needed to be done in the right order, but once you were used to it all, it sort of lost it's initial challenge. Sure, sometimes a threat would rear its ugly head, but once that was taken care of, it was only a matter of applying the same methods at a slightly faster rate. Even with this mess of gum, Marco was still confident they could rewash everything on time.

Was the squire becoming bored with the Wash? No, not exactly. Marco still enjoyed his time here with Lavabo and Artax Ed, but the unpredictability of the Wash was starting become, er, predictable. Despite all the things they'd done and fought as of late, nothing had quite matched the pure adrenaline rush the human felt when facing the Lint Monster on his first day.

Marco wasn't here for excitement though, he would've stayed in the Neverzone if he wanted nonstop thrills. No, this work was often thankless, and it alternated wildly between lethal and dull, but it was _honest_ work, it was _important_ work. That's all that mattered!

So now, here he was, a couple hours later, cleaning the pickupee side of the pickup window. Partly because the people of Mewni deserved a sanitary waiting area with a welcoming atmosphere, but also because there was nothing better to do before it was time to clock out. They had gotten all the clothes clean yet again, with time to spare.

As Marco wiped the last of the gum off a bulletin board, something on it caught his eye.

"Huh?"

It was a missing poster.

The person on it was a pimple-faced young mewman boy of around Marco's own age, perhaps just slightly shorter and scrawnier than him. He had short jet-black hair and dark brown eyes, and a bright earnest smile that contrasted painfully with the desperate exhortations written underneath, begging for any information on his whereabouts. He was holding up a bow and wearing a squire uniform.

"Sir Lavabo!"

The boy ran to his knight and handed him the tan piece of paper.

"Who is this kid? Why weren't we told about this?"

Marco didn't have the best memory when it came to the names and faces of his fellow squires. After all, he only saw the majority of them during the Squire Blowout at Quest Buy, and even then he was more focused on Higgs than anyone else. Still, whether he knew the boy personally or not, that squire uniform made him a comrade in arms!

Lavabo eyed the poster sternly and sighed. "I did not realize this was still by the pick up window. Marco Diaz, please discard it immediately."

Marco's jaw nearly dropped at that. "But Sir, I know this isn't related to the Wash, but shouldn't this be a big deal? There should be search parties for him, there should-"

"There _were_ search parties, my squire. Many knights and squires looked for young Larkin. Alas, that was over a year ago, and his mother and father have already given up hope of finding him. Leaving this reminder of their son here while they try to move on would be irresponsible of us."

A year ago? So this wasn't new? This kid went missing well before Marco was even a squire.

"Oh. Uh, okay," Marco said. "So... I guess no one knows what happened to him?"

"Technically, no. But it isn't hard to create a theory, based on what happened to his knight."

"His knight?" Marco knew he shouldn't be asking this. It was obviously a delicate matter for Lavabo, but still…

"It was a routine search for any monsters hiding in the Forest of Certain Death," Lavabo explained. "Larkin had just become a squire recently, but he was brimming with confidence, and his knight, Sir Pop Lock and Dropeth, was one of the best. However, night came, and a sword and bow were not returned to Lady Jaya when they ought to have been, or indeed many hours after that. A search for them followed, by the Queen's orders, but…"

Lavabo's face now looked as if all the color was drained from it.

"They found Sir Dropeth. His corpse was mangled to the point of unrecognizability. The bite marks on him, huge splinter-covered messy things, suggested he was attacked by creatures of the wooden brood. An oakwolf would be my guess, given that it was able to get the drop on Sir Dropeth, but an elmbeast like the one you fought before could have done the same kind of damage. As for Larkin, we were forced to conclude that he was cursed with a similar fate, though we couldn't find the body."

Marco remembered the time he was attacked by the elmbeast. He had nearly forgotten that it had happened at all. Thanks to the dimensional scissors, he had been able to bypass the dreadful path to town that went alongside the forest ever since, including when fetching the mail. Had he gotten lucky that day? Narrowly avoided Sir Dropeth's fate?

"Marco Diaz, I know I shouldn't have to remind you this, but the work we do inside these walls and out is _dangerous_. No matter how comfortable you get with your responsibilities, _never_ let your guard down. The chaos of our duties and the battlefield shows no mercy to anyone, whether they be veterans or fledglings. That is the best advice I can give, as your mentor and friend."

Marco saw the sadness in Lavabo's eyes. Despite his knight being the most optimistic person the squire had ever met, he also had an entire lifetime of losing comrades behind him, some of them likely as recent as Ludo's brief reign.

"I-I'll be careful. I promise." Marco said.

* * *

The trio arrived at the estate at 6:05, just as they did every night before.

Lavabo locked the gate behind them and turned towards their quadrupedal friend.

"Now, setting aside this morning's mishap, you did the Wash proud today, young Artax. Now go, enjoy your reward and then frolic to your heart's content!"

Lavabo threw several carrots into the air, and the miniature horse jumped up and grabbed one of them, devouring it in a few quick bites, before turning back to gobble the rest off from the ground. Once he was done, Artax blasted running jubilantly through the - recently mowed - property. It was a little uncanny how much he acted like a household dog.

"He will grow into a marvelous stallion, mark my words, Marco Diaz," Lavabo said pridefully. "Once he reaches adulthood, we will go to the castle stables and ask Lady Cadence to show us the basics of riding."

Marco smiled. "That'd be cool. I've never actually ridden a horse before." Growing up, he always assumed doing so was just asking for a concussion, so he never explored that territory. Kind of like skateboard riding, really. Except, well, he trusted Artax a lot more than he did a plank of wood and his own sense of balance.

"Then it will be a new experience for both of us!" Lavabo said, grinning wide. "He should be big enough to support our weight by the end of next summer, so by then we will definitely..."

Lavabo stopped himself before coughing awkwardly. "Well, that is to say, if you are still, er…"

Marco scratched the back of his head. "Um, yeah, we'll see what happens when the time comes," he said, feeling a little awkward himself.

"Indeed…"

The uncomfortable silence of the next few seconds was punctuated by a harsh cold gust of wind. In that moment, Marco was reminded of that old lady from Rat's End, and wondered if she had a roof over he head by now. She probably did. Didn't she? Higgs would have seen to that…

"In that case," Lavabo clapped his hands together to relieve the tension. "Let's say we get rid of this awful gum aftertaste? I do believe you were going to show me how to make these so called 'enchiladas.'"

Right, the enchiladas! Marco had become so sick of eating corn cobs, and corn pies, and just corn on top of corn, that one night he offered to make shredded chicken tacos for Lavabo. Since then, the man had developed quite a fondness for Mexican cuisine, and even started learning how to prepare some dishes with Marco's direction.

After his brother, the de facto cook of the family, left the household, and the Wash, Lavabo had been living off corn exclusively for the last half-century. The poor man didn't know what he was missing.

And yes, Marco did realize the irony that tortillas were still made from corn, but at least that aspect of it didn't dominate the entire dish!

Putting those semantics aside, Marco realized he nearly forgot something important...

"I'll come to help you in a bit, Sir, I… want to check the mail first," Marco said.

Lavabo gave a knowing nod. "Ah, of course. I'll leave you to it then. I will go ahead and get things ready."

With an unnecessary salute, the off-duty knight turned around and entered the building. Marco took out his scissors, took a deep breath, and nervously began to cut into the air. He envisioned the inside of the mailbox, and specifically pictured the mailbox having a certain letter inside, as if _that_ would help his chances.

He put his hand through the small portal and… oh, oh shit!

He recognized it immediately. Touch alone was enough.

There were a handful of envelopes in that mailbox every day, most of them junk mail, which was disturbing considering how much the mailmewman had to risk his literal life to deliver them to the edge of the Forest of Certain Death. But one of the envelopes Marco's fingers had just touched felt softer, yet more robust, sort of… velvety. High quality cotton paper instead of the cheap pulp of the coupon and catalog envelopes. He knew what that kind of envelope meant!

Marco pulled the bunch of letters through the portal and, sure enough, one of them was soft blue, with a bright pink butterfly in the middle. Official royal stationery of the Butterfly Kingdom, same as every other letter he'd gotten from Star before.

He let out the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding since he first felt the envelope.

About time! He thought Star was never going to reply to him again!

It'd been weeks since the night of the robbery, since Marco had talked to Jackie on the phone, realized the benefits of clear direct personal communication, and proceeded to write - the very next day - a letter to Star saying simply:

 _We need to talk. In person.  
\- Marco_

Weeks!

Like, Marco knew Star was busy, being a princess, and working on the reconstruction of Mewni, and dating Tom, and… stuff, but, seriously, it had taken her so long to reply to that? To find a fifteen minutes slot in her calendar to talk to her supposed best friend? Come on!

Except, well, Marco was actually glad she _had_ replied, at all. For the last few days, he was worried that she had decided that she really never wanted to see him again, and that all Marco had accomplished by forcing the issue, was for Star to decide to cut off the last link between the two: their tenuous pen-pal relationship.

Wait… what if she had decided to respond only to tell him she _didn't_ want to meet him? What if this was a final goodbye letter?!

Marco tore the envelope open, and, holding his breath once again, began to read.

 _To: Marco Ubaldo Diaz; Loyal Squire of Mewni under Sir Lavabo of the Order of the Wash; also known by the title of Princess Marco Turdina of Earth,_

Um, that was surprisingly formal.

And, since when had Star's handwriting gotten so good?

 _This letter is for your eyes only and pertains to the security of the Butterfly Kingdom. If you are not Marco Ubaldo Diaz then stop reading immediately._

Ha! No Narwhal Blast threats this time, Star?

Well, honestly, it kinda read more threatening without that part, certainly more serious, so, um...

 _By order of Moon the Undaunted, Queen of Mewni, you are ordered to report to the 8th army barracks by Solaria Square at 6:00 sharp tomorrow morning. Beforehand, you are to inform Sir Lavabo that the duties of the Wash will fall on him alone for the entirety of that day, and extend our royal apologies and thanks to him for adjusting to this inconvenience._

Um, what was Star playing at? Was she really telling him to ditch his job at the Wash tomorrow?

No, that wasn't it. The squire had this sudden feeling that he had gotten it all wrong. He stopped reading the letter and turned the envelope over.

The letter wasn't from Star! The envelope itself had Queen Moon as the sender, signed and everything! That made no sense, though. Why would the queen ask for him specifically, but _not_ Sir Labavo?

 _You will be temporarily reporting to Lady Jaya, Knight of the Armory, and expected to work closely with a number of other knights and squires selected for this mission. You are to bring the clothing and personal effects of Princess Marco Turdina, should you have them at hand, otherwise, a copy of the dress will be provided for the mission._

His 'Princess Turdina' dress? This _had_ to be some sort of prank…

 _I am to reiterate, should anyone other than Marco Ubaldo Diaz find themselves in possession of this letter, they are not to read it, particularly after this point. Unauthorized reading past this point, I am afraid to say, would constitute high treason against the Butterfly Kingdom. Please, if you are not Marco Diaz, and you are a citizen of Mewni, know that this is your Queen, ordering you to stop now._

Um, alright, but, well, he _was_ Marco Diaz.

 _Hello Marco, let me address you a bit more informally now, if I may._

 _It's not usual for royal summons to contain much information on the mission, or for that matter an explanation for my orders. But, well, given the highly irregular circumstances of these particular orders, and your closeness with my daughter, I feel I should perhaps elaborate some more. The information here is sensitive, but I am sure that's often true as well of the letters you exchange with my daughter, and those haven't (yet…) caused the Kingdom to collapse._

So, Queen Moon knew about those letters? Well, it made sense, after all she and Star _were_ closer these days…

 _Now then, three days ago, I received news through King Pony Head, that young Princess Lilacia had recently come back from one of her many unexplained absences. She had rather disturbing news about the long-distinguished boarding institution known as Saint Olga's Reform School for Wayward Princesses. I believe the place would be familiar to you, seeing as how you apparently instigated an uprising there last year._

Marco did a double take. He certainly didn't expect Queen Moon to know anything about that! Star and her could not possibly be _that_ close…

Had Pony Head been the one to spill the beans on them? Also, her first name was Lilacia? Really!?

 _In any case, I was able to talk to my daughter at some length about it, and she confirmed some of what young Lilacia had to say about the events surrounding said uprising, including the fact that the school has apparently been wholly unsupervised and under the control of the students for months now, with all of their royal parents being none the wiser…_

 _According to young Lilacia, however, Headmistress Miss Heinous returned to St. Olga two weeks ago and quickly asserted herself once more as the school's standing authority. Unfortunately - and again, this is all according to Lilacia Pony Head - the woman has apparently been so affected by her previous involuntary departure from the school, that she has adopted unacceptably harsh attitudes towards her charges. This would seem to be confirmed by the emotional state of young Princess Pony Head, as evaluated by her father and myself._

Adopted harsh attitudes? Marco had seen how Miss Heinous ran that school before! If that wasn't considered _'unacceptably harsh'_ , then he wasn't sure what could be!

 _Let me be franker than I perhaps should: I never quite agreed with Miss Heinous' methods. This is why, despite the incidents surrounding my daughter's fourteenth birthday - and attendant casualties - I never truly considered St. Olga's an option for her. That said, my impression of Headmistress Heinous was that of a strict but careful disciplinarian, as likely to physically harm her students as she was to suddenly sprout horns and a tail._

 _However, if half of what young Lilacia is telling is true - and that, admittedly, is a big if - then the princesses at Saint Olga's are no longer safe with her in charge._

Marco couldn't help but feel a little responsible for that. While he didn't exactly feel bad for kicking Heinous out in the first place, as the rebellious role model to princesses everywhere, Marco felt like he should've done a better job looking after his sisters-in-arms. Now they were in more danger than ever before!

 _I have thus commanded the Knights of Mewni to travel to St. Olga's, first to corroborate Princess Pony Head's warnings, then to document any obvious abuses on the part of Miss Heinous, and, should the situation be as young Lilacia described, immediately transition into a full rescue operation of every young girl therein._

 _Marco, according to my daughter's story, you have a better knowledge of the layout of the school than any other knight or squire in Mewni. Not only that, but your Princess Turdina persona has been known to provoke Miss Heinous into rage and carelessness. We believe this could prove valuable to both get her to show her true colors, if indeed she is a danger to her charges, and to distract her during a potential conflict._

Sure, absolutely, Marco would have done that even if Moon weren't asking!

After all, it was kind of a mess of his own doing…

 _I must point out that the role is not without its dangers and that my daughter was rather against the idea of putting you in such a position. But I do believe this is something you, like many other young and brave mewmans, signed up for when you decided to become a squire in our kingdom. I also have every assurance from the knights involved that, should this become a combat situation, both the princesses and the squires will be kept safe at all costs. Sir Stabby, in particular, made emphatic note of the rather violent methods he was willing to employ to make it so…_

So, Sir Stabby had his back? Why did that make Marco feel less safe, rather than more?

And, well, he had dealt with Miss Heinous before. Granted, he'd always had Star with him then, but Lady Jaya and the others were certainly more than a match for the old woman and her minions. Besides, just hearing that his bestie was worried on his behalf was enough to make Marco smile a little bit. It _almost_ made up for not actually getting a letter from her...

 _I also should note that this is important to our Kingdom beyond the obvious mewmanitarian reasons. Many of the girls families and kingdoms are historical friends of our's and, not to put too fine a point on it, many of them have resources that would be invaluable in Mewni's reconstruction efforts._

Ah, right. So it was all about getting them indebted to the Butterfly Kingdom, then? Higgs would have a field day with that kind of royal admission… though she'd probably also be up for anything that helped rebuild the Rat's End…

 _I won't hold it against you if you decide to resign from your post rather than accept this assignment. There is a plan B in place. That said, if you are willing to fully serve as a Squire of Mewni, then consider this your first official mission._

 _Either way, thank you, and good luck, Marco._

 _Signed,_

 _Moon Butterfly, The Undaunted, Queen of Mewni, Lizard Vanquisher, etc, etc._

Marco nodded, gravely, at no one in particular.

Tomorrow. Six in the morning. Solaria's plaza.

"Um, Sir Lavabo," he shouted as he stormed through the foyer and into the dinning room. "Could we move the enchiladas for next week? I need to fetch a few things. Also, um, about tomorrow's shift…"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Happy Post-Turkey Day for those who celebrated it! This new arc will mark the end of Act 1 (the first third) of the Squire of the Wash storyline. That's why the chapter titles for this arc will all be 'Growing Up, Part X' for the occasion.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Tune in for December (hopefully) where Marco begins his first mission outside the Wash… in a dress!


End file.
